Phantom of Miraculous
by DoctorAdrienTheJedi
Summary: Marinette has been in love with the opera since she was a child and an opportunity at opera fame arises when a mysterious accident causes the lead singer to quit and rumors start to circulate about a mysterious phantom. All reviews would be greatly appreciated since this is my first fan fiction.
1. The Show

Marinette arranged the bit of fabric over her shoulder. Her dress was simple and red, it had small bits of lace around the bottom of the skirt and the neck. It was made of a simple silk with a ribbon around the waist. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders giving a good contrast to the light shade of her dress.

Tikki scurried up to her. She was holding a pair of shoes.

Marinette smiled and accepted the shoes from her small stagehand. They were friends, though Tikki spoke more Chinese than Marinette. Marinette spoke mostly french, despite her lineage. In almost every way, Tikki was a smaller version of Marinette. Her black hair was shorter and came to only her jaw. Her blue eyes were large in proportion to her face, which made her look as if she was full of wonder constantly. Her skin was pale and without flaws or freckles as Marinette's was.

The shoes were simple and black with red stitching. They were not beautiful, but were comfortable and easy to walk around the stage in. Tikki also assisted Marinette with the long ribbons that would swoop behind her as she tiptoed around behind the lead singer.

Marinette stood next to the opening in the curtain and was followed by a small trail of others in the same costume. Their hair in the same fashion and with similar ribbons.

When the music gave the cue, Marinette led the trail of girls onto the stage and began the rehearsed routine. Feeling slightly foolish as she pranced about on stage in such a simple garb behind the ornately dressed lead singer. The vocal talent to be lead singer was one that is not common among those who would be interested.

Marinette, who had the song memorized, hummed along as she swirled her ribbons and led the other three girls into the positions that had been assigned to them. The routine had been drilled into them, but had kept the heart that was given it when created. The dancers could feel it as they swirled around in unison and created something beautiful.

As the end of the song grew closer, Marinette drew the row of dancers to the side of the stage to prepare to exit the stage. As the singer began the final note that held for an intensely long time, a large beam fell from the ceiling and missed the singer by inches, landing on the skirt of her ornate dress and scared her enough to make her fall over and tore the skirt almost off. Her tall shoes that she insisted on wearing on the stage tripped her further and caused more damage to her dress which was beyond repair already.

There were screams from both the crowd and the stage crew, which were drowned out by the frantic screams of the singer herself. The amazing vocal talents she had developed over the years were now being put to use as the banshee like screams followed her to the backstage area. The three girls that had been behind Marinette had run screaming behind the curtain when the whole ordeal had begun. Marinette had stood, transfixed by the sight of the fallen beam as chaos ensued around her.

Though the beam had been nearly perfectly solid when it had fallen, it was now splintering and rotting before her eyes. It seemed to disintegrate instantly and fell in splinters to the stage floor.

Marinette's eyes moved slowly upward to where the beam must have fallen from and she saw a figure.  
They were standing in the rafters and was mostly invisible in the dark space where they hid. Their green eyes seemed to glow almost.

There was a quick movement as the figure disappeared in the flow of a black cape.

Tikki ran up to Marinette and spoke in rapid snippets of Chinese. Marinette didn't recognize most of the words, but she understood that Tikki wanted her to follow her.

Marinette dazedly allowed Tikki to lead her to the backstage area. Her mind would not leave the thoughts of the shadowy figure that had so nimbly traveled around at that perilous height. When Tikki finally brought them to a stop, Marinette recognized where they were. They had traveled all the way to an underground room where Marinette had played as a child.


	2. The Gift

Marinette had always been transfixed by the idea of the opera. The wonderful people up on the stage creating the most beautiful artworks she had ever seen and the fact that the art would soon be finished and could no longer be viewed until the next time these people dedicated their time to creating it again.

The idea had fascinated her and she had been given a long silk ribbon for her sixth birthday. She spent countless hours dancing through rooms in her house and her parents had paid for voice lessons for her. As a child, she had given herself the name of la coccinelle, (the ladybug). Her favorite color was red and her parents had often teased her that she was like a ladybug, dressed in red with her raven black hair.

Tikki continued speaking in Chinese, but with a quieter tone now. She seemed to be speaking with respect and almost reverence as she opened a drawer and pulled out a small box.

The box was a simple black rectangle shape with red paintings that looked to be Chinese. Tikki lifted it with great care and offered it to Marinette. Marinette was confused about what could have elicited this action.

Marinette responded with similar respect and lifted the box gently from the small hands. The black paint shimmered with the small rays of light from the few scattered candles. The box was smooth and light. Marinette lifted the lid and was amazed at the sight that she was greeted with.

On a velvet cushion, there laid an ornate mask. It was in the manner of a masquerade style mask with red beading around the edges. The mask was made of black material and had small red tassels on each end. There was a red spot in the center between the eyes. There were small beads that were designed to look like ladybugs, one near the tassels on the right cheek, and one near the brow on the opposite side.

Marinette had to focus to keep her mouth from dropping open as she looked back at Tikki. Tikki nodded at her and stuttered out in french: "cela va vous garder en sécurité". This will keep you safe.

Marinette didn't understand, but she accepted it and closed the box to protect the delicate mask.

They returned to the stage and Marinette received instructions from one of the many stagehands that scurried about in a frenzy. They wanted her to return to her room and get out of her show clothes. She went with Tikki to her small dressing room in the theater.

Marinette sat for a moment in the chair in front of her large mirror. She was trying to process all the strange things that had happened just now. It was strange that the beam had fallen, that had been the first time anything like that had happened in the theater while she had been here. The mysterious figure in the rafters was even more peculiar. How did they get up there and what were they doing? She didn't recognize them from the stage crew, whom she knew well, but they seemed oddly familiar. Familiar in the way that someone seen many times from across a crowded room seems, Like she had never met them, but had observed them without realizing it.

Marinette told Tikki that she would be fine without her and began to change into her own gown. The dress had a longer skirt than her show dress, but was equally as comfortable. The sleeves went to her elbows and the skirt flowed around her ankles. The neckline was higher, it went above her collarbone, and the dark blue of the dress directly contrasted her pale skin. She had a white silk ribbon that she tied around her waist.

As she began putting her hair up in a bun, She began humming a tune from a song that her mother had sung to her as a child. She reached for a piece of ribbon from her table, when she spotted movement in the mirror.

She turned around sharply, her hair falling out of the half-made bun and falling around her shoulders again. Behind a wardrobe in the back of her room, she spied the end of a cloak as it disappeared into the shadows.


	3. The Wardrobe

Ignoring the unfinished hairdo, Marinette carefully walked towards the wardrobe. A nervous sweat appeared on her palms. She pressed her hands together.

The wardrobe was placed against the wall, but when she put her hand close to it, there was a faint draft from behind it.

Marinette ventured forward, pulling on the wardrobe. It swung forward with surprising ease. Behind the wardrobe Marinette found a large door that had been left slightly ajar. There was no light coming from behind it, but when she opened it she could hear faint, fading footsteps.

Marinette poked her head through, looking around. After allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark, she could make out a long corridor that had no light other than from her doorway.

Marinette was about to follow the footsteps into the dark when there was a knock at her door.

Tikki's voice came, muffled through the door. She was asking for Marinette to come back out. Her french was broken and she had the slightest stutter, but she got the message through.

Marinette glanced once more down the mysterious corridor before replacing the wardrobe and joining Tikki in the hallway.


	4. The Dress

"Quelle?" Marinette asked the director.

The director simply restated what he had just said. The lead singer had just quit and they wanted Marinette to temporarily replace her.

Marinette didn't understand why they thought she would be able to do it, but they had apparently been told that she was good at singing.

Marinette's dress had already been replaced with a new, more ornate dress that was clearly meant to be the center of attention. The costume designer must have been talking to Tikki or someone about what would fit Marinette best, because it was unlike any opera dress she had ever seen.

The dress was made of red fabric that shimmered prettily. The one sleeve that extended down the left arm fit perfectly and had a black button to fasten the small cuff at the wrist. There were gold stitches on her left shoulder that made swirling patterns towards the collar that also fastened with a black velvet button. Her right shoulder had a black scarf that covered it and tied at the waist on her left. The top skirt was red and was shorter slightly than the underskirt, which had a black trim at the bottom. The dress seemed to echo Chinese origins while at the same time fitting in perfectly with the opera.

Tikki seemed really excited about the idea of Marinette wearing this dress in the lead part of the opera. She muttered a bit in chinese before sputtering: "masque" (mask).

Marinette, picked up the box that she had set on her table. She opened it and put the mask on. It matched the dress well and she decided that she would wear it in the performance the next night.

Marinette turned to Tikki and stooped to give her a hug. She squeezed the girl tightly and whispered, "Merci".

Tikki pulled away and simply nodded. Then, she turned and left for the night.

Marinette looked at herself in the mirror. She was excited to have such a big part in the opera, but she was very nervous as well. She read through the music again and committed it to memory.

After several hours, she remembered the corridor behind the wardrobe. She walked over and pulled the wardrobe forward. The door was closed now, and resisted her when she tried to turn the knob. She shook the door, but it remained locked.

Marinette gave up for the night. She decided to go to bed. She changed into her nightgown and fell asleep to dream of shadowy figures and long corridors.


	5. The Song

The next day, Marinette spent many hours worrying about the upcoming opera show. Tikki tried to reassure her by telling her how she was gifted and extremely talented, but the more Tikki insisted this was what she was meant to do, the more Marinette worried.

Marinette put the dress on two hours before the opera was to start. She kept fussing over how the skirt was arranged and she changed her hairstyle several times. She couldn't decide if she wanted it up or down and Tikki assured her that it looked beautiful either way. Eventually, Marinette decided to leave it down, but pull some from the front and put it in a braid that hung on top of the rest of her hair in the back.

When Marinette walked onto the stage, she felt her feet go numb. Without thinking about it, she walked to the center of the stage and began to sing what she had memorized the night before.

She was no longer nervous. She wasn't even focused on what she was doing. She felt as though a part of her soul was being filled and it felt wonderful. Her soul was pouring out in the words of the song and she realized that there was nothing she had ever wanted to do more than this. She was fulfilling her dream and she felt as though she could have flown.

She was so caught up in the song that she didn't even care when she noticed the black cloaked figure in the rafters again. She watched as he crouched like a cat on a rafter and stared at her. His eyes were bright and seemed to shine out of the dark.

The girls that she used to lead skipped around Marinette now, creating something that had so much soul in it that even the audience, who were not a part of it, could feel it. The words being sung and the movements being made had little meaning in comparison to the feeling that was coursing through every part of everyone who was witnessing this dream in progress.

The opera was over too soon, and Marinette couldn't wait for the next day. The stagehands all congratulated Marinette on her performance and she didn't hear any of it. She was in love with this feeling that had come over her and she never wanted it to stop. She hummed for the rest of the day as she eventually calmed down from the most wonderful experience of her life.


	6. Phantom Cat

After the rest of the cast and crew had gone to bed, Marinette was awake, reliving every moment of this day. She didn't take off her dress or mask for fear of forgetting how it felt to be on the stage.

She suddenly heard footsteps from behind her wardrobe and felt a slight chill as the door behind it opened.

Marinette stood and turned towards her wardrobe which moved forward and revealed a tall figure.

"Who are you?" asked Marinette.

The figure stepped into the light and spoke softly. "Merely the phantom of a cat, M'lady".

The man was dressed in black and had a cloak that swished around his waist. His dress shirt seemed to have come straight out of the opera with it's jabot that Emerged around his neck from under his black coat. He was wearing a black mask that covered half of his face and had what looked like cat ears on his head.

This man walked as if he was just a shadow and made hardly a sound as he walked closer to Marinette.

Marinette felt exhilarated with fear as she looked up into his bright green eyes that his messy blonde hair swished in front of as he moved. The features she could make out around his mask were strikingly handsome.

This Phantom took her hand and kissed it. His eyes never left hers. Marinette found herself at a loss for words.

The Phantom opened his mouth and began to sing. His voice was deep and soft. Marinette found herself losing her consciousness. His voice was just so lovely.


	7. The Girl

Marinette woke up in her bed the next morning. She had no memory of what had happened after the Phantom had started singing.

She was still in her dress and the mask was still perched on her face. She looked out her small window and saw the sun shining brightly. It was probably about noon.

There was a small knock at her door. Tikki entered the room. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of Marinette, still in her dress.

"Avez-vous dormi dans tout cela?" tikki asked. (did you sleep in that?)

Marinette looked down at her dress and nodded guiltily at Tikki.

She shook her head with mock disappointment and tsked.

Marinette Sheepishly stood up and walked over to the mirror. She looked fine. Her hair was a bit messed up from sleeping, but she brushed it out and fixed it easily.

Marinette decided that for this show she would put it up in a neat rolled up bun on the back of her head.

The hours passed quickly, with Marinette chatting with Tikki. She talked about everything except the Phantom. Marinette was still unsure of how she felt about the shadowy figure that had visited her the night before.

Soon, the time again came for her to go onto the stage and she felt almost as nervous as before, but even more excited. She entered the stage and saw the crowd of people she had never met and would probably never talk to. Her eyes drifted up and she caught sight of the Phantom again. His green eyes pierced the darkness surrounding him.

She again opened her mouth and poured her soul into the song that came naturally to her after having practiced it a few times. The song seemed to have a sentience about it that swirled around the stage with every rise and fall of the music. The feeling Marinette now longed for more than anything returned and filled her as she sang.

As happened the first time she realized what she had always wanted to do, it ended too soon and Marinette found herself backstage with Tikki again. Tikki excused herself for a moment and Marinette was disappointed to find that the feeling she had craved was disappearing more quickly than it had the night before.  
A figure approached Marinette from the other side of the room and waved.

"Salut," she said. She had skin darker than Marinette's and hair that faded from dark near her scalp to a lighter shade around her shoulders. She was in a dress that marinette recognized as being one of the dancers that performed behind the lead singer.

Marinette bowed her head slightly at this girl. "Bonjour," she said in response.

"je m'appelle Alya" the girl said.

Marinette gestured to herself. "Marinette" she said.

Alya smiled and started talking as though they had already been friends. "I believe I have taken your place as a dancer, but if you ever decide to take it back you will probably get it. You are extremely talented and I hear you were a lucky break for the opera," she said.

Marinette smiled and her cheeks grew red. "Well, I don't think I am as important as all that, but I thank you for the compliment," she said.

Alya laughed. "Darling, you are the most talented opera singer I have ever heard. This is truly what you were born for," she said, placing her hands on Marinette's shoulders.

Marinette smiled again. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Alya nodded, but someone called her and she waved goodbye.


	8. Practice

Back in her room, Marinette changed back into her relaxing dress. The dark blue fabric made her feel better. She was feeling a little sad that the feeling of exhilaration she wished for was gone, but she felt better knowing that the next night it would return.

She twirled about a bit, watching the skirt twirl and fan out around her. It felt better to be in this shifting and moving fabric in comparison to the stiff show dress she now had to wear for the opera.

She put on her fabric shoes that matched her dress and went to find Tikki or the new girl, Alya.

Alya was helping move some dresses that belonged to the dancers when Marinette ran into her.

Alya nearly dropped the dresses when she saw Marinette coming towards her.

"Bonjour, Marinette," she said. "What are you doing? Shouldn't you be resting?" she asked.

Marinette shook her head. "No, I rested yesterday, because it was my first time, but today I wanted to be around other people," she said, taking a few dresses off the stack in Alya's arms.

Alya looked surprised. "And you chose me to be around?" she asked.

Marinette nodded. "The other performers have never been very nice to me, at least not as friendly as you have been. They think I am weird because I am half chinese," marinette said, remembering the times she had tried to befriend the other dancers, only to have them stick their noses into the air and turn away.

Alya frowned. "What?" she said, "that is ridiculous, you are very talented. They were probably just jealous."

Marinette smiled. "Well, anyway, why are you carrying these dresses? Usually the stagehands do that," she said.

Alya nodded vigorously. "They do. Don't you think that is totally unfair? How can we use all this stuff and then let them work to make it better? I was just trying to help them out" she said proudly.

Marinette wondered if she should tell Alya that the stagehands were perfectly happy to move this stuff themselves, because this is what they were paid for, and without the work they would not get their salary, but Alya seemed so proud, and there was enough work to go around, so she decided to let it go for now.

"What are you doing after you are done with this?" Marinette asked, gesturing to the pile of dresses in both their arms.

Alya shrugged. "Probably practice the dance routine. I haven't been doing very well and I don't want to ruin the show tomorrow," she said.

Marinette saw an opportunity.

"I used to do the same dance, why don't I help you memorize it?" Marinette asked excitedly.

Alya smiled. "Yeah, sure. I could always use some expert advice," she said.

Marinette was excited to start. She hadn't had many real friends. Mostly just Tikki, but they couldn't communicate very well and Tikki had always seemed to have other work to do.

Alya was wondering where they would be able to practice, but Marinette already had a room in mind. She led Alya to the basement room that she had played in and practiced in as she had grown up. She moved the small table to the side and turned in a circle to make sure there was enough room.

When it was prepared, Marinette led Alya to the center of the room and they began.

Marinette imagined when she had been a dancer and walked out onto the stage behind the lead singer who had already begun. She stood in the position she had drilled into her head and counted to three. When the wait was up, she began to move about the stage in the fluid movements she had taken months practicing.

Alya tripped and fell into Marinette. They both fell to the floor and Marinette began to laugh.

Alya hurriedly got up, her face shading with red. "Why are you laughing?" she asked.

Marinette apologized. "You just remind me of how I used ot be. When I first started taking lessons to dance in the opera, I was such a big klutz that I had to take private lessons. The other girls kept laughing at me," she said.

Alya smiled. "And now, you are better than any of them," she said.

Marinette shook her head. "One of them quit her job and I got it two days ago. The others are out there dancing with you at show time," she said.

Alya seemed shocked. "They all made it into the same theater as you? That is an enormous coincidence," she said.

Marinette smiled. "And now, if I ever make a mistake, they will all be there to see it," she said, shaking her head slightly. She could imagine the humility of that inevitable moment.

Alya shook her head. "Marinette, you were meant to be here. If they ever say anything rude to you again, I will see to it that it is they, and not you, who are humiliated," Alya promised.

Marinette shook her head. "Let's see how far you can get without falling over."


	9. Legends

"Of course not," Marinette told Alya, "In all my years in this theater, I have never heard rumors of any ghosts."

Alya shook her head. "Marinette, I prefer the term phantom. It sounds more mysterious," she said.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "It is simply an excuse that actors have created to blame for their mistakes. It is nothing but a silly story that I will have nothing to do with," she finished.

Alya took Marinette's arm before she could walk away. "So, you haven't seen him?" she asked.

"Who?" Marinette responded.

Alya gave her a slight smile. "The phantom of course," she said.

Marinette rearranged her hair that had fallen into her face. "No, I have not. If I were you, I would stop filling my head with such silly concepts of Opera Ghosts and focus on the dance routine," Marinette said with obvious finality.

Alya released her arm and shrugged. "I guess you won't believe it, but I will prove it to you. He is out there somewhere," she said.

Marinette smiled as she walked back to her room. With a wave, she bid Alya goodnight and closed the door behind her.

Alya was talented in dancing, but she was unfocused. Her mind would wander and skip from thing to thing. She filled her head with stories of spirits and was more interested in them than in her studies. Marinette meant to work that out of her.

Marinette took the bun out of her hair and began to brush it out. Her open window allowed a breeze through that put out one of the candles.

Marinette walked over and closed the window. When the glass pane was swinging shut, marinette caught sight of the wardrobe in the reflection.

She turned around. The wardrobe was exactly where it should be, but Marinette couldn't help remembering the corridor behind it. Marinette walked over and pulled it forward. The door was closed still, but there was something on the floor in front of it.

Marinette bent down and picked it up. It was a rose. The rose had no unique qualities, but the ribbon tied around it was black and silk.

Marinette sniffed the rose. She smiled. The door would not open. It was locked, but marinette felt as though she would be seeing this cat again.


	10. Echoes

The next day, Marinette spent hours talking to Alya before the show at the end of the day. Alya thanked Marinette for the help practicing the day before.

The show began with Marinette once again taking center stage and filling the ears and hearts of all those who could hear with the magical sound of opera music. She wore the mask the Tikki had given her. She smiled with pure happiness and the knowledge that this was what she had always wanted to do.

The cat she had met was not in the rafters this time. Marinette searched for him, hoping to catch sight of his dark cloak or his green eyes. She couldn't forget his light hair and the contrast it gave to his mask.

Though she couldn't see him, his voice seemed to haunt her, echoing through her mind as she sang with her entire being. His voice was deep and Marinette longed to hear it again.

Marinette felt the strength draining from her and knew she would not be able to continue in this fashion, but she desperately wanted to remain the main singer.

The show was over again and Marinette couldn't wait for the next time. The time for her to take a break had come and she knew that for at least two days she would not be onstage.

Alya had plans for the first day away from theater, as she desperately wanted to get better at the dance. She had asked Marinette to continue helping her and Marinette agreed.

As they discussed these plans, Marinette caught sight of something as it slipped behind a curtain. She thought is was a cloak, but when she looked again, there was nothing there.

Alya caught the confused look on Marinette's face and glanced behind her.

"Quelle?" Alya asked, "Did you see something Marinette?"

Marinette blinked. "No. I thought I saw something, but it was nothing," she said.

Alya smiled. "oh , really?" she asked skeptically, "could it have been the Phantom of the opera house?"

Marinette shook her head. "Alya, you know it couldn't have been. It was probably a stagehand. There are no ghosts here," she said.

Alya pouted, but didn't bring it up again.


	11. Roses

Marinette returned to her room. There was another rose waiting, this time on her table. She smiled and put it in a vase with the other rose.

Movement caught her eye and she turned.

The wardrobe had been moved again and the door was open. Marinette could see green eyes shining from the shadows.

"Bonjour, I assume you are my phantom cat again?" Marinette said, addressing the figure.

The figure stepped forward. His golden hair again falling over his forehead. Marinette looked more closely at the ears atop his head. She could not distinguish whether they were real or fake, which she found strange.

The man bowed to her. His cloak falling over his shoulder.

"M'lady, I couldn't help but notice that you have been magnificent lately. You remind me of someone I knew before," he said.

Marinette couldn't help blushing slightly. "Who?" she asked.

The Phantom hesitated for a moment, his confidence wavering. "A friend," he said finally. He did not elaborate and Marinette felt she shouldn't push.

"I noticed you are not feeling quite up to continuing in this manner. I think I can help," The Phantom said. He spoke with sincerity and seemed to hope for a positive answer.

Marinette considered this. She did indeed feel a little bit stretched as she sang every night without a break for a week consecutively. She hoped that he did not have any plans that could harm anyone, but she couldn't imagine this gentle cat-like man doing anything of that nature.

Marinette nodded.

The Phantom smiled. "Bien. Meet me here tomorrow at night," he said.

Before Marinette could respond, he was gone. Without a sound, he had slipped through the door and closed it.


	12. Rumors

"No," Marinette said, "you need to raise your arm like this. Then sweep back like this." Marinette demonstrated the movement to Alya, who was trying to pry information out of her.

"Marinette, I heard a voice when I walked past your room yesterday. Who was in your room?" Alya asked stubbornly.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "I told you. No one was there. I talk to myself sometimes."

Alya was not satisfied. "In a voice that sounds nothing like your own?" she asked.

"After you sweep back, raise both your arms up like this," Marinette said, desperately trying to change the subject.

Alya finally gave up. She started paying attention to what Marinette was trying to teach her.


	13. Tunnels

Marinette walked into her room as it was turning dark outside. The Phantom was waiting for her there. His mask shone in the light of the candles and his cloak flowed around him in the breeze coming from the open corridor.

"Monsieur, We cannot talk in here. My friend has become suspicious," Marinette said.

The Phantom nodded as if he had been expecting this. He very gently took Marinette by the hand and began to lead her through the door. The wardrobe swung back into place behind them and Marinette was left blinded by the dark.

The Phantom held her hand with his own gloved hand and sang to her as they walked so she never feared of becoming lost. He seemed to know where he was going, even in the complete darkness of this tunnel.

They finally came to a room. The room had several cloth covered shapes and an organ. There were sheets of music and candles lit the entire room.

Marinette was in awe of the beautiful room. It seemed to have been used for something else in the distant past, but was now a wonderful room to practice in.

The Phantom pulled a cloth off of one of the shapes to reveal a piano. The dark wood glistened in the light of the candles and the Phantom once again took Marinette's hand.

The Phantom pulled marinette so they were facing each other. They were so close she could feel his breath on her face.

"M'lady, this room is so far underneath the theater that no one can hear us," he said.

Marinette looked up into his eyes. He gazed into hers for a moment, before he turned and sat at the piano.

Marinette hesitated before picking up a sheet of music.

The Phantom glanced at the music she had picked up. He began to play the piano. He played the music as if he had been born with the knowledge of how to do so.

Marinette sang along with hisplaying. Occasionally, the Phantom would stop her and give her advice on how to sing better or more effectively.

As she sang, she could feel the same wonder she had felt the first time she had been on the stage. This time, the wonder felt as if it would not take her energy as it had in the past, but give her more.

The final time Marinette sang the song she had been practicing, the Phantom joined in. His voice was deep and harmonized perfectly with hers, but she could feel a sadness and anger through each word.

Marinette looked at the Phantom. He seemed to be unaware that he was singing. He was doing it out of pure emotion, not realizing he was bearing his soul at this moment.

The song came to an end and with one swift movement, the Phantom stood up and put all the candles out with the swish of his cloak.

Marinette was left in darkness again.

The gentle gloved hand of the Phantom caught hers again. She followed him blindly through the corridor.

Marinette found herself in her room. The wardrobe swung shut behind her and she was left with only the sound of the Phantom singing to her as he had led her, echoing in her mind.


	14. Madame and Stagehand

The next day Marinette spent with Tikki. They went out together to eat lunch and get a button fixed on Marinette's blue dress. She was left wearing a dress that was a goldenrod shade and had a dark red ribbon around her waist. The sleeves were short and ruffled at the bottom.

They were eating at an outdoor cafe that had become one of Marinette's favorite places to eat. They always had a bowl of cherries at each table and the service was great. Marinette and Tikki ordered some small sandwiches. They ate and talked, though Tikki was having a hard time speaking French.

Tikki was excited about a new stagehand that she had heard was coming. She heard that he knew Chinese and she was hoping this was true since he might be able to help her learn and communicate.

Marinette had also heard there would be some changes happening at the theater. A new singer was coming from a smaller town in France who would sing if Marinette were ever sick or absent. Marinette was hoping to be friends with her and learn from her and teach her if needed. She was hoping that she would be like Alya, friendly and kind.

After lunch, Marinette and Tikki went to get the dress repaired and waited while the button was replaced. The man fixing the dress was very kind and talked to Marinette through the entire repair. Marinette found out that his name was Nino, he loved coming to the opera and was going to start working there the next week.

Marinette smiled. "Monsieur, I am the new singer for the opera," she said.

Nino's eyes grew wide. "No way, really? That is fantastic," he responded, "I hope to see you there next week."

Marinette nodded and thanked him for the repair.

Marinette and Tikki walked back to the theater with small snippets of conversation.

When they arrived they found that the newcomers had arrived. The new stagehand was small like Tikki. He had jet black hair and green eyes. He was very pale and wore a completely black suit. His name was Plagg, which Marinette thought to be a very strange name. He did indeed speak Chinese fluently as well as French.

The new singer had also arrived. Her name was Chloe and she was wearing an extremely ornate dress, though she had not yet been given a part in the show. Her blonde hair was all stacked up on her head in a complex style that must have taken hours to do. She was busy giving orders to her personal hand when Marinette walked up.

"And Sabrina, I want my water cold, but no ice. Got it?" Chloe said.

The red haired girl nodded and scurried away to do the list of things she had just been told to do.

Chloe finally turned to Marinette.

"Ah, are you a stagehand? I need some taller shoes. These are much too short, they don't make me the center of attention enough," she said.

Marinette glanced at her shoes and realized that the heels were already about three inches tall. If she had taken them off, Chloe might have been the same height as Marinette.

"Um, no. I am not a stagehand. I came to introduce myself. I am Marinette, the lead singer," Marinette said.

Chloe looked Marinette up and down with a look of distaste.

"You're the lead singer?" she asked.

Marinette nodded.

"Hmph, maybe at least for now," Chloe said, turning away and talking to another crewmember.

Marinette went back to her room with a sigh. She had been hoping for someone who would be more kind, but Chloe would have to do for now.


	15. The Mask

Marinette found an envelope on her table when she entered her room. It was sealed with a wax seal of a cats paw print.

Knowing it was from the Phantom, Marinette opened it. The letter told her to meet the Phantom at the same time as before in her room.

Looking out the window, Marinette realized that in a few minutes it would be dark. She replaced the letter into the envelope. She opened a drawer and placed it carefully inside.

"Bonjour, M'lady," Marinette heard from behind her.

Turning, Marinette saw the Phantom in the doorway behind the wardrobe. He was bowing with a flourish of his cloak. He looked up and smiled at her.

Marinette remembered the sadness that had been in his voice the day before and recognized the same sadness in his smile. She wondered what had happened to make him so sad constantly. Marinette also wondered if it had anything to do with his mask.

The Phantom noticed her staring at his mask. His smile faded quickly and his hand lifted slightly, as if to touch the black, smooth mask that covered half his face and mystified Marinette.

Marinette stood and her hand was again taken by the Phantom. Again, he led her through the dark with his voice and his gentle hand.

When they arrived at the room Marinette held the Phantom's hand for a bit longer to get his attention. He turned to her.

Marinette hesitated, not wanting to make him angry. "Monsieur, why do you wear a mask?" she finally asked.

His eyes flashed with anger before growing soft with understanding. He allowed his hand to touch the smooth surface of the mask this time. His eyes grew distant with memory.

"I loved someone and they saved me," He said, "there was no other way."

Marinette didn't say anything, but she wondered what his face must look like since he had not given much detail.

The Phantom turned quickly and sat again at the piano. Marinette picked up another piece of music and they practiced.


	16. Trouble

The next day Chloe was trying to manipulate her way to the lead singer role.

"Monsieur director, I simply refuse to be the replacement singer for a half chinese girl with no sense of fashion," she was saying when Marinette entered, "I will not do it."

"Madame, Marinette has more experience with the opera than even I do. You will be her replacement, or you will be a stagehand," The director said.

Chloe looked shocked and offended at the mere thought of being a stagehand.

"Monsieur, I will make sure that you are replaced,"Chloe said.

The director stared at her until she walked away.

Marinette walked up to him.

"Monsieur, I don't mean to cause any trouble. If she wants to be lead singer, she can," Marinette said, though she would be sad to see the role go.

The director turned to Marinette. "Oh. Absolutely not. You have caused no trouble at all. Chloe Bourgeois is just throwing a fit. It will cool down soon," he said.

Marinette nodded. She walked over to Alya.

"Marinette, Chloe has been ordering everyone around" Alya said.

Marinette nodded. "I know," she said.

Alya folded her arms. "I don't like her at all. She has also tried to say bad things about you," Alya said.

Marinette was not surprised. "Alya, I know how she is. Please just let it go," she said, "arguing with her will only make it worse."

Alya pouted. "Alright Marinette, but if she gets much worse I might punch her,"she said.

Marinette smiled. "Alya, from you, I would expect nothing less," she said.

Alya smiled as well. She watched Chloe walk around the stage for a moment before turning to Marinette.

"Marinette, you have been spending more and more time in your room by yourself. What are you doing in there?" she asked.

Marinette was startled. "Quelle? Oh, um, I have been resting and memorizing the music, that's all," she said.

Alya scrunched her nose and pouted a bit. "Oh, I was hoping it was something exciting. Nothing happens around here," she said.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You should get used to it, I have been here for years and this is as exciting as it gets," she said.

Alya sighed. "I was really hoping show business would offer some adventure," she said.


	17. Chloe

The show started. Marinette stepped out with her dress trailing behind her. The mask helped to block some of the light that shone brightly at her from the reflective candle cases around the stage.

The Phantom was standing in the rafters again. He nodded slightly to Marinette when she entered the stage. She bowed her head slightly in response.

Marinette sang again. She did what the Phantom had taught her to conserve her energy and the song felt almost more magical than before. Marinette could feel the exhilaration of the opera flow around her as she gazed at the Phantom. She could not make out his expression as he stood watching her. His eye were the only feature from his face Marinette could make out in the shadows.

She could hear his voice grow louder in her mind as the song came to the climax and it harmonized with hers perfectly as she sang. No other voice had ever matched hers as perfectly as the one that now rang through her thoughts and memories. Marinette watched the Phantom as he moved across to the side of the theater and disappeared into the shadows.

The voice she had become used to in her head constantly now began to fade and she felt a growing sadness.

Marinette entered the backstage area with a deep breath. She felt she had done better this time than ever before. She knew it was because of her practice with the Phantom and she couldn't wait to talk to him again.

"Monsieur, do you know who my father is?" Chloe yelled at the director.

The director gave a disappointed shake of his head. "No madame, is he someone of any importance to me?" he asked.

Chloe let out a breath of air in mock shock. "Well monsieur," she said, "he own the theater."

The director looked up at her. "Madame, if he wants to come here and be the director in my stead, then let him do it. Until then, I say what your job is," he said.

The director walked away in a huff and Chloe just stood with her arms folded.

Chloe saw Marinette watching and smiled. She seemed to have an idea just before she turned and walked away with purpose.

Marinette could feel that she might not be singing in the opera for much longer, but she walked back to her room to change back into a dress that wouldn't catch on everything.

There was a rose waiting on her table again. The black ribbon brought a smile to her face as she placed it carefully in the vase with the others. The first one she had received was starting to die.

Marinette slipped into her blue dress that had been repaired. She twirled in front of her mirror. The blue fabric shimmered as it fanned out around her.


	18. Tutor

"Marinette, you have definitely gotten better at singing over the break," Alya said when they met outside Marinette's room, "Did you get a tutor or something?"

Marinette laughed. "Alya, you don't think I need one do you?" Marinette responded.

Alya gave her a skeptical look.

"Okay, I met a great teacher. He works with me over the breaks," Marinette said.

Alya looked a bit surprised. "Marinette, do you really need a teacher though?" she asked.

Marinette shrugged. "Well, it did seem to make a noticeable difference if anyone thinks I got better," she said, pointedly looking at Alya.

Alya shrugged as well. "Sure. I just don't know who would be good enough to make you better than you already were. Who is he?" she asked.

Marinette stopped smiling. "I am not sure," she said, "he never said his name."

Alya frowned and raised her eyebrows at Marinette. "Marinette, you trust him? You have no idea who he is," she said.

Marinette nodded. "You are right Alya. I don't have any idea who he is, but I trust him," she said.


	19. Thrill

The next day the stagehands were in a buzz about some piece of gossip they had heard.

Marinette waded through them backstage. She was trying to get to where Tikki was working so she could find out what the excitement was about.

Finally pulling herself out of the crowd of working people, Marinette bumped into Tikki and Alya.

Alya turned to Marinette. She looked as angry as she could possibly be.

"Marinette, this is an outrage. It simply cannot stand," Alya said in a huff.

Marinette looked to Tikki to explain what was such an outrage.

"Remplacement. Chloe," Tikki said.

Marinette understood what she meant by her broken french sentence. Chloe had managed to replace her in the opera.

Alya was less understanding.

"Marinette, Chloe has gotten the director fired and he has been replaced with her own father," she said angrily, "he has made her the lead singer instead of you."

Marinette shrugged. "Alya, I will not waste my anger on her. This was inevitable from the moment she set foot in this theater," She said.

Alya's jaw dropped. "Marinette, I thought you loved singing in the opera. How can you be so calm about this?" She said in an exasperated huff.

"Alya, if I am meant to sing again, it will happen. Until then, I will not expend my energy being angry about something I cannot change," Marinette said.

Tikki smiled and gave Marinette a small clap. Alya still stood with her arms crossed.

"Okay Marinette. Until you sing again,though, I will have to be embarrassed about being so bad at the routine as I dance behind you in the show. You have been reinstated as the lead dancer,"

The rest of the day Marinette was subject to sorry looks from various opera employees and the occasional smirk from Chloe.

As much as she tried to ignore it, Marinette was embarrassed by the fact that everyone seemed to be talking about her. She tried hard to focus on practicing the dance and helping Alya as well, but she was more distracted than ever.

Marinette realized that she may never feel the magical excitement from singing on stage and she ached at the thought of it. She remembered the hours she had spent practicing with the Phantom and felt she had let him down by not being good enough to continue singing on stage.

When Marinette tripped and fell for the fifth time, Alya told her that they had practiced enough. Alya insisted that Marinette get some rest before the show that night.

Marinette walked slowly back to her room. She was worried that the Phantom might be waiting for her and she would have to tell him what had happened, or worse, he would have left her a rose that she would have to return to him.

Marinette opened the door to her empty room. The Phantom was not there and neither was there a rose on her table. She sighed with relief before she felt guilty for not wanting to see him.

There was a knock at her door that made Marinette jump.

When she answered the door, Marinette saw the tailor she had met the week before.

Nino bowed slightly. "Bonjour, I have heard quite a bit of gossip about you madame," he said, "I decided to find out from you what is fiction or not."

Marinette smiled. "Bonjour monsieur. It is good to see you again," Marinette said, "as far as gossip goes, I am no longer the lead singer. This much is true."

Nino frowned. "My apologies madame. I had hoped it was merely gossip," he said, "and how did this come to happen?"

"Chloe Bourgeois is the daughter of the theater's owner. She is my replacement," Marinette explained.

Nino wrinkled his nose. "Ah, I have met madame Bourgeois. She recruited me for a dress repair when I had not been here more then five minutes," he said, "I have met more pleasant individuals."

Marinette nearly laughed. "Oui monsieur. She could be kinder," Marinette said.

Nino smiled. "Indeed. Would you accompany me for a walk madame?" he asked, offering his arm to Marinette.

Marinette blushed slightly. She nodded and accepted his arm.

Nino led her around the crowds of people and they eventually made their way to an exit. When they stepped outside the sun was beginning to set and the sky blazed with oranges and reds. The sky was clear and Marinette thought of how the night sky would look that night. The stars would emerge and with breathtaking beauty they would sparkle.

Marinette wished she was taking a walk at that time. She prefered to walk at night, when the sun was hidden from scorching the earth and all that walked upon it. The night holds a superior beauty to the day and Marinette loved it.

As they walked, Nino talked about the different customers he had had the pleasure of meeting and his first day of opera work. Chloe had not been as terrible to him as she could have been, she mostly tried to get special treatment due to her place in the opera. Nino amused Marinette with stories of customers who entered his shop with the mistaken idea that they were going to a bakery and took an hour to convince that they had been wrong.

Marinette chatted with him happily until the time when they must return so that she could be in the opera that night. When they walked up to the door of the opera the first stars were starting to appear and Marinette imagined that soon it would be the marvelous night that she wished to walk in.

Nino parted with Marinette after he gently kissed her hand. Marinette was blushing as she entered her dressing room and changed into her ballet dress.

The roses in her vase reminded Marinette of the phantom. She felt happy thinking she may see him again that night.

Marinette hummed to herself as she tied her hair up in a tail and then braided it. She thought of the Phantom and of the good friend she had found in the tailor.


	20. Ghosts

The music started and Marinette counted to five before leading the girls onto the stage. They each smoothly tiptoed to their positions and began swaying and sweeping as they had practiced. Marinette had the entire routine memorized, but she could not put her heart into it this night.

The Phantom was absent from his usual seat in the rafters. Marinette could sense the magic that she was not able to create through singing.

Each row of girls moved in fluent motion, raising their arms and turning in unison. Despite the sorrow in her heart, Marinette felt happy at the thought of how they must look to others. She envisioned the uniform motions on the stage that seemed to swell with life.

Marinette could hear Alya behind her as she counted under her breath and her feet hit the wood of the stage. The dozens of feet pounding simultaneously sounded like a hundred drums. They beat out the steps of the dance and twirled, allowing their skirts to flow outward in circles around each of them.

By the end of the show, the Phantom had not appeared and Marinette was growing increasingly upset.

After leading the girls behind the curtain, Marinette refused to talk to anyone. Telling Alya she was not feeling well, Marinette retreated to her room and closed the door. There was no note or rose waiting on her table and no sign of the Phantom either.

Marinette was feeling that she may have been being ignored. Perhaps the Phantom no longer wished to teach her. He may have decided that she was not worthy of teaching now that she was again simply a dancer.

Marinette changed into her nightgown and blew out the candles so that she may be able to get some rest.

After an hour of being kept awake by feelings of guilt, Marinette heard a voice behind her wardrobe.

The voice was singing. As it grew closer, she could make out the song, it was a song of remorse and the voice sang of lost love and broken hearts.

Marinette sat up in her bed and listened. The voice stayed distant, but the sound of it was so anguished that marinette began to cry. Silent tears rolled down her pale cheeks and she began to sing ever so softly as her vision was blurred. Her singing gave way into quiet sobs as the song came to the climax of its anguished verse.

Marinette fell to her pillow with exhaustion and the image of the Phantom haunted her dreams.

In the morning, Marinette met with an excited Alya. This time she was full of more gossip.

"Marinette, have you heard? The opera ghost has made more appearances. Just last night he was seen by Meg," alya said, "and then, the maestro spotted him."

Marinette was too distracted to tell Alya how silly she sounded.

"Intéressant Alya, please continue," Marinette said without much feeling.

Alya almost continued talking, but hesitated. "Marinette, are you feeling ill?" she asked.

Marinette shook her head. "I am feeling well, but I am a bit distracted. Please do go on," she said.

Alya nodded. "Well, Meg saw him entering the room where the owner of the opera house works. Later, the maestro saw a figure in a black cloak heading to the cellar," Alya continued excitedly.

Marinette nodded. "And of course you are sure it was the opera ghost and not just a man in a cloak?" she asked.

Alya folded her arms at Marinette. "Have you seen many men in black cloaks around here recently?" she asked pointedly.

Marinette shrugged. "No, I can't say I have, but that doesn't mean there is a ghost about," she said.

Alya rolled her eyes and said, "Marinette, I have not seen a single black cloak around here for months."

Marinette smiled. "Is it not true that ghosts are typically white?" she asked.

Alya shrugged. "The color is not relevant. Perhaps he can change colors," she said.

Marinette laughed. "Alya, imagine a ghost that changes colors. Is it not preposterous?" she asked.

Alya seemed to give up. "Fine, you don't have to believe me yet, but I will prove it someday," she said.

Nino walked over to them. He was hearing a blue waistcoat and had a tape measure draped over his shoulders.

"Bonjour Marinette, who is this?" he said, gesturing to Alya.

Marinette smiled. "This is Alya. she came as my replacement when I became the singer," she said.

Alya smiled and waved a little.

Nino nodded. "Alya, how do you like working at the opera?" he asked.

Alya responded, "I think it has more adventure in it than it seems at first. Have you heard of the opera ghost?"

Nino shook his head. "I can't say I have. Please, do enlighten me," he said.

Alya began filling him in on all the goings on that had to do with the opera ghost. Marinette knew they would become good friends and her mind started wandering.

Marinette wondered how she could once again be allowed to see the Phantom. Had she simply lost him for good? Perhaps she had done something to offend him and needed to apologize to him for whatever it was.

"Marinette?"

Marinette snapped her head up. Alya and Nino were both looking at her and she couldn't tell who had addressed her. There was also a man standing behind them who seemed to also be looking at her.

Marinette blushed sheepishly. "Excusez-moi. I was not paying attention. What did you say?" she asked to the small group.

Alya frowned. "Marinette, this is the owner of the opera house. He is also the new director. He has something to tell you," she said with disappointment in her voice.

All eyes shifted toward the man who had been standing behind Alya and Nino.

"Ah, oui. Madame dupain-cheng, you have been temporarily suspended from the show. There have been threats made against my daughter in order to get you reinstated as the singer," he said. His face was growing slightly red and he seemed quite indignant.

"I will not have it," he finished before walking briskly away.

Marinette stood in shock for a moment. When she finally shook out of it, she was met with the concerned looks from her friends.

"Marinette…" Alya began, but was cut off by Marinette.

"Alya, this is perfectly fine. I have not been feeling well recently and this will give me time to rest as everyone cools down from this entire thing," Marinette said coolly.

Nino let his head hang slightly. "I was quite looking forward to hearing you sing soon. That may not happen now," he said.

Marinette smiled. "You will hear me sing, my friend, but perhaps not as soon as you had hoped. We must be patient until the time comes," she said.

After convincing Alya and Nino that she was genuinely fine, Marinette went back to her room.

After sitting at her table and looking into the mirror, Marinette realized how ill she looked. Her skin was pale and she had dark shadows around her eyes that made it seems as though she had not slept for days. Her hair was perfectly up in a high braid, but it was the only part of her that seemed well taken care of.

Marinette arranged for a bath and took her time soaking in the hot water.

Walking back into her room in her bathrobe, Marinette felt a familiar chill in the air. She looked around the room and noticed the wardrobe had been moved forward a bit.

Marinette walked over and found that the door was still closed, but must have been opened recently due to the cold draft that had taken the room.

Turning around once more, Marinette spotted an envelope on her table that had not been there before.

Marinette walked over and picked up the white envelope that had the unique and recognizable seal that made her smile.

Upon opening the envelope, Marinette found a letter addressed to herself.

Madame Dupain-Cheng,

That idiotic director had made his last mistake.

This wrong must be righted at the soonest opportunity.

For this reason, I have taken it upon myself to erase any sense of control

the fool running my opera house has put into his head.

I hope you feel well soon so that your part in the opera may be restored.

You seem tired My'Lady, please get some rest.

With the highest regards,

 _Opera Ghost_

Marinette was afraid of what he might mean by this note, but found herself falling asleep.


	21. Lullaby

Moving to her bed, Marinette heard another song from all around. The sound of anger and hate echoed in her head and she felt the anguish that coursed through each word and each note. Hatred poured into her with each word and the sheer amount of anger that filled her thoughts kept her from sleeping.

When the swell of music finally began falling, Marinette could sense more sadness than anger.

The song ended abruptly and Marinette strained to hear any sound from the mysterious voice that now haunted her.

The voice returned with a deep melody of a lullaby that Marinette could have sworn was coming from much closer than the previous songs. Marinette wanted to sleep, but the thought of her poor phantom being so close forced her to relinquish her warm bed and walk across her room. As she approached her wardrobe she grew more sure that the voice was directly behind it.

Marinette moved the wardrobe silently and kneeled in front of the locked door.

Placing her hand on the cold metal, Marinette leaned forward and whispered to the spirit that had lingered with her. She imagined the figure of the pale phantom that had shown such kindness to her and who had never abandoned his sorrow.

"Bonne nuit, my phantom cat,"

There was no response from the other side of the door other than the rustling of hair and a few quiet sobs. Marinette stayed kneeling at the door until she could hear faint footsteps going down the long corridor.

Marinette could feel herself slipping into sleep and did nothing to prevent it. She laid her head against the cool door and drifted off.


	22. Thunder

Screams and a thousand footsteps thundered down the hall towards Marinette's room. Two voices rang above the rest and could be easily distinguished from the thrum of excited chatter.

Marinette jolted awake to the sound of an argument between Alya and chloe. The sound of every theater employee surging towards her room caused her to move toward the door.

As the voices came to the peak of the crescendo, Marinette opened the door to find a crowd of people standing in the doorway.

Marinette curtsied in the general direction of the owner of the theater and then stood at her full height to be face-to-face with Chloe Bourgeois.

"Bonjour Madame, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Marinette said.

From behind Chloe, Marinette could see Alya who had an exasperated look. Chloe's father stepped forward before anything else could be said.

"Madame Dupain-Cheng, what do you mean by sabotaging my daughter's performance?" He thundered, "I suppose you intend to gain the position yourself. Well, Madame, I can guarantee that you will never sing again."

Marinette was taken aback by this sudden accusation. As she scanned the crowd of people, she could tell that they all anxiously awaited her response.

Marinette shook her head. "Monsieur, I don't know what you mean by this. I have been resting since I was suspended from the show. I have no ill will towards your daughter and have not left my room for hours," She said.

Looking thoroughly flustered at this point, monsieur Bourgeois was pushed back by his daughter.

Chloe stepped up to Marinette and brandished a piece of paper in her face. "Madame, you sent me this letter and now you have acted upon your foolish threats," She said as if she had finally found something that would ruin Marinette.

Marinette gently took the paper from Chloe as the blonde folded her arms smugly.

The letter was in familiar handwriting, but not Marinettes own. She read the letter aloud, so as to show the audience what it was she was being accused of.

"Madame Bourgeois, seeing as you have seized the part of lead singer, I will personally judge whether you are worthy of the part. I was taken aback at your treatment of the staff, especially your predecessor, Madame Dupain-Cheng. From now on, you will treat every member of the opera with the respect they deserve, and if you are not worthy of your place, you will be replaced. By force, if need be. I would warn you to be careful how you react to this letter and beware that you are being watched. Yours truly, Opera Ghost."

After finishing, Marinette looked up to the surprised faces of the crowd. Chloe was the only one who did not have an air of shock. She grabbed the letter and waved it about, as if it was all the proof she needed. Monsieur Bourgeois seemed to be trying to blend in with the wall and was being unsuccessful.

Alya stepped forward, addressing Marinette. "Who could have sent this?" she asked.

Marinette shook her head, but Chloe seemed to know exactly who.

"This little rat has had it out for me since I arrived here. She is jealous of my talent and position. She wished to sabotage me with this ridiculous prank," she ranted.

Alya took no notice of the outraged blonde. Marinette looked to her for an explanation.

"Marinette, someone has really pulled one over on Chloe. During her practice today, someone switched out the music. She had no idea what to sing. Then, her dress caught fire!" Alya said, finishing by taking breath.

Marinette raised her eyebrows at Alya before turning to Chloe.

"Madame Bourgeois, I swear I had nothing to do with this. I was asleep until the lot of you thundered to my door. I feel deeply sorry for how you must feel just now, but I did nothing to you, so I will ask you now to vacate my doorway until you have some form of proof," Marinette said.

She watched expectantly as Chloe gaped at her, frozen.

Alya nodded with a look of approval before turning to monsieur Bourgeois, forcing him into action.

"Ahem. Seeing as there is no evidence suggesting that madame Dupain-Cheng is the guilty party, we must further investigate. In the meantime, I would suggest we all leave her be," the owner of the opera stated, beckoning the crowd away from the singer's room.

The group slowly dispersed, whispering and muttering amongst themselves.

Alya and Nino remained in Marinettes doorway.

"Nice, girl. You really showed Chloe what's what," Alya said. She seemed to beam with pride as she looked at Marinette.

Nino nodded his agreement. He had a stray measuring tape around his neck like a scarf and pins stuck into his vest where they were easily accessible.

Marinette smiled at her friends. "Thank you. Alya, if anyone can snoop around to find the culprit, it's you. I know you are itching to investigate, so please, do not feel obligated to stay here," Marinette said.

Alyas eyes lit up and she grabbed Ninos arm. "Come on! We have to clear Marinettes good name!" she said excitedly, dragging Nino away.

"Bye, Marinette. See you soon," Nino called before being dragged out of earshot.

Marinette smiled as she watched her friends go. If the culprit was who she suspected, they would turn up short of evidence.

Turning back to her room, Marinette saw the phantom standing near her wardrobe. His hair was ruffled and messy. His ears stood erect and alert atop his head, swiveling to catch every sound. He seemed quite frazzled.

Marinette quickly closed the door before turning to the startled cat. She walked up to him, being cautious not to startle him.

"My dearest Chat Noir. Whatever is the matter?" she asked him, reaching to stroke his cheek with her thumb.

His face relaxed and he leaned into her hand. "My lady," he said in a whisper.

Marinette shifted her hand up to put her fingers through the hair under the strange catlike ears. He seemed to nearly purr under her caress.

"We need to go," he said finally, taking her hand from his head and clutching it. He pressed his lips to her knuckles for a moment before pulling away.

Marinette blushed, reclaiming her hand and walking to her table.

"I don't know where you mean to go, but I must take something with us. Alya will be snooping and I would prefer she did not find these," she said, taking the letters from chat out of her drawer. She placed them in a small bag with her box containing the ladybug mask.

"They may seem suspicious," she said.

The phantom watched her with large, sad eyes. When she turned to him, his ears perked up from when they had drooped.

Marinette extended her hand, which Chat took and gently led her into the corridor behind the wardrobe.


	23. Secrets

Alya dragged Nino into Chloe's room and began inspecting her desk. There were dozens of perfume bottles that reeked of scents that mingled in the air and accosted the nose. Alya scrunched her nose and sneered at the smell. Nino stood in the open doorway attempting to waft some fresh air into the room.

Trying to breath through her mouth, Alya sifted through the drawers of assorted jewelry and useless knick-knacks. Opening the last drawer on the desk, Alya found a small stack of letters. Each was sealed with a wax pawprint.

Alya held them up for Nino to see. He made his way over, not hiding the grimace on his face from the smell.

Alya opened the first one and read:

Alya raised an eyebrow at Nino who shrugged. The letter was incredibly intriguing and Alya eagerly opened the next one.

 _Madame,_

 _I was under the impression I had made myself clear when I wrote that you were to show respect to Madame Dupain-Cheng._

 _Unfortunately, as it seems you refuse to be respectful to anyone, I may have to have you replaced._

 _I usually prefer to reserve this level of action for when it is absolutely necessary, but you have forced my hand._

 _I dearly hope you do not force me to do anything drastic. If you do not begin to be respectful when addressing other employees of the opera house, I will have to take advantage of my influence._

 _With all due respect,_

 _Opera Ghost_

Alya rifled through the drawers, looking for more letters, but found none. She stood up and began pacing. She replace the letters into the envelopes they had come from and began to tap them on her chin.

"These, together with the note we saw today, prove that Chloe was not delusional," Alya began, "there were legitimate threats made against her. They also seem to be directed to benefit Marinette."

Nino nodded. "However, I do not believed Marinette is capable of writing these notes. She is much too gentle mannered," he said. At Alya's nod, he continued, "Despite her gentle disposition, Chloe seems to be able to bring out the more aggressive side of our dear singer."

Alya scowled at him for such a thought. They were trying to prove her innocent, not think of reasons she would resort to such criminal acts. She sighed as she acknowledged that they must view every angle in order to truly solve the mystery.

Staring at the wax seal on the envelopes, Alya felt a new vigor course through her veins to find the true culprit. The thought of Marinette being the victim of this manipulation in the Opera house made her viciously stomp her foot.

Nino jumped. He had sat in Chloe's chair and had been watching Alya as she paced back and forth, muttering to herself incoherently. He found it rather endearing.

Noticing Nino's presence, Alya scowled at him. She walked out of the room, leaving him to scramble after her and down the hall. Alya marched into another room that was occupied by Tikki and two other stagehands.

They all jumped at her entrance, standing respectfully. Alya looked directly at Tikki who held her gaze.

Moving forward, Alya leaned in close to the small chinese girl.

"I need you to help me," Alya said to Tikki, who nodded in understanding.

Tikki bid farewell to her roommates and left with Alya. Nino followed behind, completely bewildered.

Upon arriving at Marinettes door, Alya gave several quick knocks. There was no answer and Alya was incredibly impatient.

As she reached to open the door, Tikki reached out and grabbed Alya's arm. Alya turned to the small girl and found herself looking into her large, round, blue eyes. They pleaded with her to not open the door.

Despite the silent begging, Alya walked into Marinette's room.

Alya scanned the room for the familiar face of her favorite blue-eyed opera singer. Finding no such person, she turned to the small stagehand that always seemed to know what was going on.

Tikki shied away a bit when Alya aggressively moved towards her.

"Where is Marinette?" Alya demanded of Tikki.

Tikki only shook her head, muttering in Chinese.

Alya huffed and turned away. She began searching the room for any clue of where Marinette might have disappeared to.

Nino was mostly glad that Alya was not mad at him. He also felt bad for Tikki, who was standing uncomfortably in front of a wardrobe. She nervously tucked a bit of jet-black hair behind her ear before leaning back on the wardrobe. Nino watched as she did this and she glanced at him. Her eyes studied him, calculating how much he knew and how much he suspected.

She seemed to come to the conclusion that he was not a threat because she soon shifted her attention to the raving ballet dancer that was going through Marinettes' drawers.

Alya seemed to be troubled by the bouquet of roses on Marinette's desk. Each rose was at a different stage of wilting and every single one had a black ribbon tied around the stem.

Alya took one out. The one that seemed to be the freshest. She tugged at the ribbon and the gears in her head were nearly visible as they cranked away at this new puzzle.

Suddenly, Alya's head snapped up. She stared at Tikki for a moment before briskly walking over and grabbing both Nino and Tikki by their sleeves. She dragged them out of the room and down the hall. Nino stumbled and had a hard time walking beside her. Tikki kept her unfazed appearance and maintained the same pace as Alya through the entire journey.

Nino could not think of where she may be taking them until she finally stopped. They had stopped as soon as the new stagehand had come into sight. Alya had her eyes fixed upon the small boy and she had a look of determination that Nino couldn't help but adore.

"Hey! Plagg!" Alya called.

The boy turned. His green eyes fixed upon Alya and he nearly smirked. He walked over to them, his black hair swishing around his ears. He stopped just in front of Alya and stared at her expectantly.

Alya pulled Tikki forward.

"Do you speak Chinese?" She asked.

Plagg had an amused look on his face as he set eyes on the other small stagehand.

"I do indeed," he replied, "Is there something you need translated?"

Alya rolled her eyes. She released Tikki and put her hands on her hips.

"I need to find out where Marinette is. If Tikki knows, I need you to find out."

Plagg rolled his own eyes at that, but turned to Tikki. He began to speak Chinese smoothly and it seemed he was not terribly concerned with finding out quickly.

Tikki smiled and responded to him whenever he spoke. They seemed to be carrying on a conversation about something particularly exciting and Alya wanted to know what it was.

"Plagg. What is she saying? Where is Marinette?" Alya interrupted.

Plagg turned to her. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes that made Nino nervous.

"She doesn't know where Madame Dupain-Cheng is, but she says the ballet dancer had been asked to not be looked for," he said.

Alya refused to accept it.

"No she didn't. Where would Marinette go? She has few friends here and prefers to be in others company. She would have to be completely alone if she went somewhere," she said.

She folded her arms and Plagg simply shrugged.

"I cannot say any more about where she may be. If you do not need anything else, please allow me to continue in my work and Tikki in hers," he said.

Alya grew red with anger, but simply stormed off. Nino followed after her, trying to convince her to cool down.

"Alya, perhaps Marinette wishes to be left alone. She does need rest," Nino tried to convince her.

Alya turned to him. Her face showed genuine concern.

"Nino, I agree that she may need rest, but Marinette would have told me. She would not have left me to find out through Tikki. I worry she may be in trouble," Alya said.

Nino nodded. "Alya, I promise we will find Marinette. We must focus first on the task at hand. Who has caused all this trouble?" he asked.

Alya thought for a moment.

"Nino, I may have an idea, but it could be potentially dangerous."

"Then lead the way."


	24. Ideas

Alya was directing people to positions around the stage area. Nino helped around with as much as possible. He thought her idea was a work of complete genius, despite the obvious potential dangers.

Nino watched as even Chloe did as she was told. It seemed that she had been scared by the recent accident and was worried enough that she would be helpful. Nino smiled as Alya took full advantage of the blonde's willingness.

For Alya's plan to work, everything had to be exactly where she directed. Only this, and an enormous amount of luck on their side, could bring success.

The stagehands and employees of the opera ran about, carrying bags of sand and coils of rope. Nino ran about helping people to place things in the correct places.

Alya ran up to Nino with a small scowl on her face. He took a few steps back as she moved her face close to his.

"What are you doing?" she asked, "you need to be working on the costumes. The alterations are not going to do themselves."

Nino swallowed. He smiled nervously at her. "Oh, yeah. I know. I just, um, wanted to help around here. Uh, what exactly do I need to do to the costumes again?" He asked.

Nino braced himself for an explosion of any magnitude. With Alya, nothing was very predictable.

To Nino's surprise, Alya sighed calmly. She closed her eyes and seemed to be focusing on something.

"Okay. Come on. I will have to help you," she said, "Plagg! Get over here!"

The small, Chinese boy trotted over with a sly grin on his face. He bowed slightly when he approached Alya.

Alya folded her arms. "Okay. I have to leave you in charge of operations here," she began, "I assume you can see where I am going with the plan so far?"

Plagg raised an eyebrow, keeping his grin plastered on his face. "Of course, Madame. You made your plan obvious from the first instruction."


	25. Costumes

Nino was obviously completely lost. Alya could tell, but she didn't have the time to explain everything to him. She was just grateful that Plagg understood. She needed someone else to know what was going on.

Nino followed behind as Alya sped down the hall to the room with the stage outfits. He was the only one here who knew how to sew, as far as Alya knew, and he needed to get to work.

She opened the door and looked around at all of the dresses and suits. She stood in awe for a moment before her eyes set upon a dress in the corner. She walked over to the beautiful creation.

The dress was made almost completely of gold, shimmering fabric. It had small red and purple accents and embellishments. There were swirling patterns sewn into the fabric that appeared to move and shift before her eyes. When Alya touched it, she was surprised to find that it was made of fabric that was soft and light. It was not thick and it flowed easily.

"This is the one," she said, "We need to use it, but we need to make some simple alterations."

Nino nodded and moved to gather the dress off of the mannequin it was on. As he took it off and began to fold it up to carry it, he noticed something odd.

"Alya, I am not comfortable making alterations to this dress," he said.

Alya sighed. "And why not?" she asked.

Nino didn't want to anger Alya, but he thought he must mention it.

"Well, this is an original creation by a designer," he said, "It is one of a kind. There will never be another dress like this one."

Alya rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"And what leads you to that conclusion?"

Nino swallowed. "Well, there is a signature in the stitching. Here, around the neck," he said.

Alya stepped closer.

"Who the heck is Agreste?"


	26. Tea

Marinette was surprised when the phantom led her to a room she did not recognize. It was furnished with very few chairs and a small table. There were candlesticks scattered around. None of the candles were lit except for one that stood alone on the small table. The phantom released Marinette's hand and plucked the candle off the table. He began to light the others as Marinette looked around.

The room was large, but the actual space that seemed to be used for living was rather small. As Marinette glanced around, she noticed some large rectangular shapes covered in thick red fabric. Her curiosity was piqued. She walked over to one and lifted the cloth.

It was a mirror.

Marinette glanced at the phantom. He was still busy lighting candles. She gently replaced the cloth over the reflective surface.

Turning back to the phantom, Marinette saw him finish lighting the last candle and turn to face her again.

He smiled and walked to the table. He bent down and pulled a small crate from underneath it. Marinette walked over as he began rifling through the contents. He pulled out a plate and a small loaf of bread. He pulled out a teapot and a small teacup.

"Would you like some tea, M'lady?" he asked.

Marinette smiled politely. "That would be lovely, merci," she said as she took a seat in the chair he had pulled out for her.

The phantom smiled at her again and began lighting a small fire in a place he had clearly prepared for just that. He filled the teapot with water from a barrel he had set nearby. After placing the teapot near enough to the fire that it would soon heat up, he walked back over to Marinette. He sat in a chair across from her. His ears twitched happily as he tried to instigate a small, friendly conversation. His chin was resting in his two gloved hands and his elbows were propped on the table.

Marinette finally stopped him.

"Pardon me, Monsieur, but I know hardly anything about you. Perhaps you could tell me something about yourself."

The phantom slowly nodded.

"Perhaps you are right, M'Lady. What would you like to know?" He asked.

Marinette could think of only one thing that she desperately wanted to ask, but she feared he may become angry if she were to bring it up.

"Let us begin with some simple questions. What is your favorite color and so on," she said.

The phantom nodded.

"Well, to begin with, my favorite color is green, I love the smell of freshly baked bread, and I love the opera," He said.

Marinette smiled. She was glad to finally be getting to know her poor little cat. He began to run his hand through his hair, combing it out of his face.

"Is there anything else you would like to know about me, Princess?" he asked.

Marinette blushed slightly.

"Chaton, is there nothing you would like to know about me?" she asked.

It was the phantom's turn to blush. He looked sheepishly up at her after he bowed his head slightly.

"M'lady, forgive me. I know you very well already. I learned through observation," he said.

Marinette raised her eyebrows at him.

"Chat Noir, what do you mean by that?" she asked.

The phantom gave her an apologetic look.

"M'lady, your favorite color is red, you love the smell of rain, you have had a passion for the opera since you were six, you enjoy taking walks at night, you once went by the name la coccinelle, and you speak very little chinese, despite the fact that your mother is chinese," he said, "I know you very well."

The phantom glanced back up at Marinette who was speechless. The phantom must have been observing her for years. How could she not have known?

The phantom was chewing on his lower lip with anxiety. He opened his mouth to say something, but then jumped up to check on the water. He busied himself with making the tea. He carefully poured the water over the tea leaves and into two small teacups. He silently walked over and set them on the table, one in front of Marinette and one in front of his own seat.

The phantom tried to avoid looking at Marinette as he quietly stirred his tea.

After a few minutes of tense silence, Marinette spoke up.

"Have you heard of the trouble in the opera house?" she asked.

Chat looked up at her. "Ah, yes. I have indeed. The new lead singer has had some trouble," he said. His voice seemed bitter when he referred to Chloe.

Marinette chewed her lip. She was worried about asking her next question.

"Chaton, do you know who caused all this trouble?" she finally asked.

Chat Noir smiled dryly. "Chloe Bourgeois directly, but I suspect you were referring to how I might be involved," he said. He looked up at Marinette, who gently nodded for him to continue.

"As you may have suspected, I wrote that note and I may have caused the accident, but I promise you, Princess, that I did not intend to harm anyone. I have been working to humble the girl. There was no malicious intent," He said. He seemed to care mostly about what Marinette believed.

Marinette nodded. "I expected as much. I believe you. I am only sad that you would do such a thing. I can only hope it was not to benefit me," she said.

Chat smiled crookedly. "Well, it may have been an added incentive."

Marinette rolled her eyes with a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"So, how did you find all that out about me?" she asked, "you must have observed me for quite a while."

Chat Noir gave her yet another sheepish look, he licked his lips and cleared his throat.

"I did not always hide in the shadows. I was once an apprentice to my father. He and I never quite saw eye to eye. He worked in the opera."


	27. The Past

_Young Adrien Agreste laughed as he chased another small boy around the curtains. His shaggy blonde hair fell in his eyes and he brushed it away. The younger boy grabbed a rope and began climbing. Adrien ran to the rope, looking up at the boy._

 _"_ _Hey! Plagg, that's not fair! I can't climb the rope!" he exclaimed at the quick, Chinese child._

 _"_ _Young master Agreste should learn to climb," Plagg called down, "It would make the game more interesting."_

 _Adrien pouted and plopped himself down at the end of the rope. He crossed his arms and pretended to be angry with his small friend._

 _From across the stage, he spotted the girl that he knew to be his age. She had jet black hair that was done into twin pigtails that bounced as she skipped around the floor. She had a long red ribbon that she trailed behind her everywhere she went. Her large, blue eyes always had a spark of mischief in them and Adrien found himself staring whenever she was around._

 _She was playing with another girl that was small and spoke only Chinese. They had a struggle communicating because the dancer girl only spoke French, but she was determined to make it work. She used her hands to express what she wanted to say often while she spoke._

 _Adrien saw a huge man walk over to the two black haired girls. There was a small woman behind him who looked like she was from China. Her eyes were small, like Plagg's._

 _"_ _Marinette, we are going to go home now. You can stay here if you want, to play with the other kids, but we are going, We will be back to get you in a couple hours if you choose to stay," The large man said. His voice was surprisingly soft and Adrien thought he sounded friendly._

 _Adrien stood up slowly and darted from shadow to shadow until he was directly beside the small family. He hadn't been spotted and he poked his head out from behind the curtain he was hiding behind._

 _The small group all smelled like bread and Adrien realized how hungry he was. His mouth started to water, but he tried to focus on what they were saying._

 _"_ _Okay, Papa. I want to stay and play with Tikki," The girl, Marinette, said._

 _The large man nodded and the woman beside him knelt to talk to the smaller girl. She spoke in a language Adrien recognized. His father had been trying to teach it to him. Tikki nodded and the two little girls scurried off to play._

 _Adrien watched as the couple looked at their daughter and her friend. They turned and walked away._

 _Adrien came out from his hiding place and sniffed the air. The smell of bread lingered and Adrien inhaled deeply. His stomach grumbled and Adrien went to find Plagg._

 _The small, Chinese boy had come down from the rope and was watching Adrien with curiosity._

 _"_ _What was so interesting that you could not wait for me?" he asked Adrien._

 _The small blonde shrugged. "Nothing. Do you want a snack? My Maman probably made a snack," he said._

 _The smaller boy nodded and they both ran off to find food._

 _Adrien giggled as his mother turned the beetle into a goldfish and it swam around in the small bowl of water. He leaned forward, peering at the small creature. He poked his finger into the water and let the fish nibble on it._

 _His mother's eyes sparkled as she waved her fingers, turning it into a small, black kitten. The kitten slipped on the edge of the bowl and fell to the floor. The kitten's tail drooped._

 _Adrien's eyes grew wide as he scooped the kitten up. He cradled it in his arms and spoke quietly._

 _"_ _Maman, he is so cute. I wish we could keep him," he said._

 _Adrien's mother smiled. She waved her finger in playful strictness._

 _"_ _I know dear, but as you know, we always have to turn it back to what it used to be. We shouldn't meddle with nature," she said._

 _Adrien nodded sadly. "I know maman. I understand, but I wish pere would let us have a pet," he said._

 _His mom smiled sadly as she turned the kitten back into the small stag beetle they had found earlier._


	28. Memories

Adrien was almost sixteen now and he was not interested in making costumes for the opera. He had heard and angel sing that day and he wanted nothing more than to sing with her. They had lived in the same opera house for nine years, and she still had no idea he existed. He had always been too anxious to introduce himself and found himself hiding whenever she was around.

Plagg had been sent back to China a few years back and Adrien had been hopelessly lonely since then. His father had strictly monitored anyone Adrien came into contact with and they were usually scared off. Adrien had resigned himself to stop trying to make friends.

Suddenly, Adrien heard footsteps. He recognized them as Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

He frantically searched for somewhere to hide. His eyes finally landed on a rope that was tied to some of the rafters. He couldn't find anywhere else to hide, so he quickly grabbed the rope and hauled himself up. He had asked Plagg to teach him how to climb the rope about a year after he had first set eyes on Marinette.

After reaching the rafters, Adrien looked down and saw Marinette. She was standing almost directly under him and he worried he would accidentally shift the rope and draw her attention.

She was talking to Tikki, who had stayed a loyal friend to Marinette the entire time they had known each other.

Tikki seemed to be trying to convince her of something, but she could only speak in broken French.

As Adrien hung above her, Marinette's scent floated up to him. After all these years, she still smelled of freshly baked bread, but she also smelled of fruit. Adrien could only think of bread and jam when he smelled it.

Marinette was wearing one of the simple ballet dresses and her hair was down. The dark hair flowed over her shoulders and looked beautiful against the red fabric of her dress. Adrien nearly lost his grip on the rope when he forgot where he was. He wanted nothing more than to be beside her.

Marinette moved away and Tikki followed. After a moment, Adrien slowly let himself down. He looked around before letting himself fall the last few feet.

A small stagehand scurried up to him and told him his father wanted him. Adrien thanked the stagehand, but groaned inwardly. His father would no doubt be wanting to see him so he could fully convince Adrien to take up the family business before his mother returned.

In his anger, Adrien didn't realize he had just destroyed the rope he had been clutching. He inwardly cursed himself for being so careless, but was grateful that no one had seen it.

He had always had the power to destroy things at will, but he had never liked using it. His mother had magical abilities and he had inherited it from her. She specialized in animal magic, which had amused Adrien greatly as a child.

He flicked his wrist as if to get rid of any lingering magic.

Adrien quickly walked to the area his father worked in. He walked past mannequins and stacks of fabric to a door at the very back of the opera house. He paused for a moment outside the dark wood door. His hand brushed the doorknob. He tried to go through how he would tell his father that he did not want to take on his business.

Adrien took a deep breath and looked forward with determination as he opened the door.

His entire train of thought melted away when he entered the room. His mother was standing with his father at the other end of the room. She was an opera singer, but she had been away for a year. She had been off training aspiring opera singers and Adrien's father had given her many beautiful dresses to increase his customer traffic.

Adrien ran over and pulled her into a big hug. He inhaled the smell of flowers that always followed her. Her long, blonde hair tickled his face and he smiled.

"Maman, I didn't know you were coming back yet," Adrien said.

Adrien didn't realize that he had interrupted an argument. Adrien's mom glanced at his father. Gabriel pursed his lips and turned away.

"Adrien, I didn't know I would be coming back so soon either. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever," she said. She ruffled his hair and Adrien grinned.

Adrien's father cleared his throat. Adrien released his mother and they both turned to Gabriel.

"Adrien. You are nearly old enough to take over my business," Gabriel started.

Adrien opened his mouth to respond, but his mother beat him to it.

"Gabriel, maybe he doesn't want to be a costume designer," she said.

Adrien smiled gratefully, but his father was not impressed.

"Adrien is plenty old enough to take on a career. I have been training him for this role his entire life. What other career would you suggest?" he said.

At this, Adrien did respond. "Pere, I want to sing in the opera," he said quickly.

Adrien's mother beamed at him, but his father scowled darkly.

"Adrien. You are not thinking clearly. I believe there is something, or someone, that is clouding your judgement. I refuse to allow you to do this," he said.

Adrien's heart sunk. He knew his father would respond like that. He had been hoping to convince him, but his mother being there had derailed his train of thought. What he was most worried about now was that his father would somehow connect Adrien's decision with Marinette. He would be forbidden from ever associating with her and his father might even go so far as to send Adrien away so he could not possibly be affected by her.

"Pere. If there is an error in my thought, it must have been in existence for several years," Adrien began, "I have never wanted to be an apprentice to you and I have tried telling you as much. You have never been interested in what I might actually want to do and I cannot force myself to take on a career that would be torture for me."

Adrien's father looked less confused now, but his eyes were filled with pure rage and Adrien worried that he may have gone too far.

Adrien's father turned so his back was to Adrien.

"Adrien. I think you have grown up under the wrong conditions," Gabriel said, "I am going to send you away for a year or two so you can think about what you want to do with your life."

Adrien could feel his eyes begin to sting and he hoped he wouldn't start crying in front of his father.

His mind raced with thought of what this might mean. He would be away from Marinette. He would be away from his mother. He would be away from the opera house and the wonderful people who filled it. He would never be allowed to sing in the opera or even sing with Marinette. Marinette would never know he existed. She would probably fall in love and marry someone else while he was away. He would never be with her.

"Gabriel," his mother suddenly said, "I thought we agreed that we wouldn't make any decisions yet. He is old enough to make his own decisions. He is very good at singing and would do an amazing job. He knows the people around here. He likes it here. We can't possibly send him away unless it is what he wants. It would crush him."

Adrien's eyes flicked to his father, who turned and stared at the blonde woman next to him. His jaw was set and his mind seemed to in a similar state.

"We made no such agreement. I have made a decision that I think will be beneficial to all of us," Gabriel said.

Adrien's mother straightened. "Gabriel. Will this be beneficial to all of us, or only you?" she asked, "I haven't seen my own son in years and I think it would be cruel to send him away."

Adrien could feel the tears welling up in his eyes as his father began to respond.

"I have made my decision. I am sending him away."

The tears flowed down his face and Adrien ran out of the room. His mother called after him, but he didn't answer. He raced through rooms and hallways. He eventually found himself at the edge of the opera house. He had two routes he could take at that point. He could leave the opera house, or he could go down a trapdoor and under the house.

Adrien walked to the door that led outside of the opera house. He put his hand on the doorknob.

He could be far away from his overbearing father, bolts of fabric, and pincushions. He would never be forced to stitch another piece of clothing. Never have to sit through another of his father's lectures or be scrutinized with his stare that could never be satisfied. He would never be called a disappointment again. He would never be told what to be or how to live.

He closed his eyes and turned the knob.

Marinette.

The thought came suddenly to him. His eyes shot opened.

Marinette. He would never see her again. He would never sing in the opera. Never sing with her. Never smell her fresh bread and jam scent again. Never even speak with her.

He would be leaving his mother behind. He would never curl up with her next to a fire and hear her tell him another story. Have her caress his head as they both stare into the flames. He would never hear her sing again, with the magic she could weave in and move any heart.

He would be leaving his home. The one place he felt he truly belonged. Where he felt he could be himself.

He slowly let go of the doorknob and turned to the hatch that was hidden in the floor.

He could stay in his home. Meet the love of his life. Talk to her. Get to know her in person. Be around his Maman. Eventually, he could even pursue his dream career. He could sing with Marinette. He could make some real friends. He could avoid his father. He might even be able to get his pere to leave him alone. His father might go to another opera house out of spite. That sounded like him.

Adrien lifted the trapdoor. He stared into the darkness below. It seemed to call to him. Darkness was safe. It was without judgement. Without expectations.

Adrien could hear two sets of footsteps. One was light and graceful. The other was hard and heavy. His parents.

Looking back once, he could feel a broken smile light on his face.

He dropped into the darkness.


	29. Trust

Adrien could feel the hunger eating at his stomach. He could smell food. He was close to the kitchen, but he needed to get in without being seen. He knew the tunnels of the opera house better than anything else, but he had no control over the people in it.

He dropped his head down into the room and glanced around. The room was empty, aside from the food.

Listening closely, Adrine dropped down into the room. He kept his head swivelling around to keep tabs on what was going on in the room.

He made his way over to a cupboard where he could smell bread. Upon opening it, he found rolls and loafs and baskets full of bread. His mouth began to water, but he heard the doorknob turn and he quickly looked for a hiding place. He jumped and grabbed one of the rails on the ceiling that usually held towels or dried ingredients.

The small stagehand that was close friends with marinette walked in. She was looking around as if she was expecting someone else to be there.

She paused a few feet away from Adrien's hiding place. She placed her hands on her hips and chewed on the inside of her lower lip.

Suddenly, she looked up, directly at Adrien. Their eyes met and they both paused for a moment. Then, the girl smiled.

"Hello," she said, offering her hand to help him climb down. She spoke chinese still, and fortunately, Adrien was now fluent.

Adrien accepted the offered hand and climbed down so he was standing with her. She was incredibly small and frail seeming, but adrien could tell she was a force to be reckoned with.

"Master Agreste must be hungry," she said and Adrien nodded.

"I thought as much. There has been quite a fuss with the other employees, but your father has tried to sweep it under the rug of course. Your mother is very worried."

Adrien felt a pang of guilt at hearing that he had upset his mother. He stood silently as the small girl prepared a basket of food for him.

The girl moved over to hand him the basket. Her large, blue eyes seemed to know exactly how he felt and thought.

"My name is Tikki," she said. Adrien took the basket.

There were loaves of bread and some small wheels of cheese wrapped in paper. There was a small dish of butter and another of jam.

Adrien thanked Tikki until she finally shushed him by holding her hand out.

"You are welcome to seek my help if you ever need anything," she said, "my only request is that you don't harm anyone."

Adrien wondered briefly if she knew about his power but pushed the thought aside and promised to never harm anyone in the opera house.,

Tikki smiled at the young blonde boy before swiftly pushing him towards his trapdoor exit when she heard someone coming.

Adrien uttered a final thank you and a quick goodbye before swinging himself up into the ceiling. He shut the door and quickly moved away from the kitchen. He was glad to know he had someone he could trust, as long as she was worthy of his trust.


	30. Distortion

Adrien had been thinking. He missed his parents. His maman, mostly. He thought they had probably cooled down by now and he might be able to go back. He wanted his pere to accept him for who he was. He desperately hoped pere would at least listen to him if he came back now.

He had been hiding in the shadows and behind trapdoors for almost six months and he was tired of running around behind everyone's backs. He wanted to come out of hiding and be accepted. He was desperate for a chance to make everything work out with his parents.

It may have blinded him from the obvious truth.

He slowly made his way towards where his parents usually were. It was late, so he hoped to find his way to them while everyone was still asleep. His eyes had become pretty good at seeing in near perfect darkness and he deftly traveled through secret passages.

Just above where his father usually worked on costumes, Adrien dropped from the ceiling and his leather boots made only a muffled sound that only he could hear when he his the floor. He moved over to one of his father's desks. A sketchbook was flipped open and Adrien peered at the page. It was a sketch of his mother wearing a dress that his father had made for her. Of all the dresses she owned, Adrien considered that dress to be a true sign that his father loved his mother. Even if it had dwindled or faded, he had at one time, truly loved her.

Adrien smiled at the memory of the first time she had worn it. She had beamed at Gabriel and twirled around for them both to see the entire dress. The golden fabric glimmered in the candlelight and the purple accents perfectly complimented her green eyes. The darker purple fabric was placed perfectly so the gold didn't make her look more pale than she was and she was perfectly happy at that moment.

At that moment, Adrien heard footsteps in a near hall. He recognized them as his mother and turned to face her as she entered.

As his mother came around the corner, Adrien couldn't help but worry at how she may react to seeing him. Fortunately, he was not disappointed.

"Adrien," she breathed when she saw him. Her entire body relaxed as she made her way to him. She smiled and seemed on the verge of tears. She pulled him into a tight hug once she was near enough and he could feel her tears soak his shoulder. She let out a few small sobs and Adrien remained silent as he held her.

They stayed like that for a few minutes before she finally pulled away. She dried her face with the back of her hand.

"Dear, I can't believe you're back," she said, "I missed you so much. I am afraid to say that your father has not taken your absence well."

Adrien was about to respond when their attention was quickly drawn to a throat clearing at the door of the room.

They both could see Gabriel standing in the doorway. His hands were clasped behind his back and his eyes were as cold as ever. He didn't seem to even notice that his wife was in the room. He stared past her, directly at Adrien. His eyes betrayed no emotion other than anger. They were cold and grey, making Adrien feel numb and afraid.

They stood in silence for a long moment. Just as Adrien thought they would never break the silence, his mother began to speak.

She was cut off by Gabriel before she could make a sound.

"I see you have returned," he stated. His words were colder than his eyes and Adrien found himself wanting to look away, but he was frozen.

"Are you incapable of responding? I thought I raised you better, but then again, I raised you to be a designer," Gabriel continued.

Adrien opened his mouth to respond. He found himself filled with hot rage.

"You thought you raised a mindless servant. Not a son."

Gabriel almost smirked. "I see. You see yourself as independent."

Adrien stayed silent. His mother had moved away and was now standing just to his left.

Gabriel stepped further into the room, but was still distanced from his son. He gave Adrien a look that portrayed only pure hate.

"I never thought you would become anything," Gabriel began, "But it seems you have made yourself exactly nothing. I couldn't be more disappointed."

Adrien felt as if he had been stabbed in the stomach. His vision blurred. He couldn't breath. After all he had done to make his father proud. How he longed to be accepted. His father hated him. He had always thought his father was merely distant. It had never occurred to him that he might simply and completely loathe him.

Adrien fell to his knees as his pere left the room. Gabriel walked coolly down the hall. Away from his son.

Adrien felt nothing anymore. He couldn't believe his father had rejected him. He grasped his head and tried to breath, but it felt like an uphill battle. He hated himself. He would never become anything. Not if he didn't have his father. The man he had always admired. The man who had raised him.

Gabriel wanted Adrien dead.

As the thought struck Adrien, he realized something. If Gabriel wanted him dead, then so did he.

As he realized it, he could feel a sharp pain in his right ear. His power had obeyed him. He was dying. He could feel the power flowing over his face. It was moving much slower than it ever had before. It was inside his ear now and he couldn't hear anything through the4 pain.

His mother knelt in front of him. Tears were streaming down her face as she placed her hands on his shoulders.

He looked up at her and she said something. Adrien shook his head wildly.

"I can't hear," he said.

Through her tears, Adrien's mother placed her hands on his head. He felt a slight tingle through the pain and could suddenly hear. He looked at his mother. She was sobbing.

The pain was now spreading around his right eye and his jaw. He could feel his flesh being eaten away. The pain was nearly unbearable, but he felt that he deserved it.

His head was angled up by the gentle hands of his mother. She looked directly into his eyes.

"Adrien," she said, "I forbid you to die. I want you to know that I love you."

When she finished, she pulled his head down and kissed his forehead. He felt all the pain leave, but the damage remained. He gasped for air that he hadn't realized he had been refusing his lungs.

His mother laughed. His head snapped up to her. He could see the magic eating away at her face now. It seemed to move much faster.

His mother gave him a look that portrayed all she was feeling. She was sorry it had to be this way. She wanted him to live and make something of himself. She loved him.

"Adrien," she said, "Go do something amazing."

Adrien choked on the thousands of sobs that threatened to cause his chest to either explode or implode from the pressure. He settled with a shout to his father. Begging him to come and save her. His father was either too far away, or he refuse to hear. He didn't come.

Adrien felt useless as he watched his mother go limp and slowly become nothing but ash. He remained still. Frozen by all he had experienced.

Numb with death.


	31. Blame

Marinette was failing at keeping the tears back as Chat Noir finished his story. She was as still as possible in an attempt to not disturb him. She was surprised when her own tears suddenly stopped.

"Where did you get your mask?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Chat looked at her. Surprised. He smiled slightly and let out a quiet chuckle. His hand subconsciously reached for his mask once again.

"My father," he said, turning bitter. "He made quite a _gift_ of it."

Marinette was about to say anything she could to help him, but his hand flicked up in a motion to stop her. His cat like ears flicked in every direction.

After a long moment, Chat set his hand back down and moved to stand. He released a long breath and replaced his gloomy look with his usual wide grin.

Extending a hand to Marinette with a slight bow, he said, "it seems we are both being sought for. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the show?"

Marinette smiled back and took the offered hand.

"It would be my pleasure," she said.

Chat grinned even wider and led her to one of the many secret passageways.

They traveled in the dark for a while. Chat filled the air with small conversation, talking about different employees of the opera he enjoyed watching and anything else he could, to keep both of their minds from dwelling on his past. Eventually, they came to a door and Chat put a finger to Marinettes lips. She was pulled very close to him as he peered through a hole in the door. Marinette found her face growing warm as she realized the proximity of the other. She was thankful for the dark, since she was sure her face was perfectly red.

She couldn't help but stare at him in the small amount of light. The beam from the hole he was looking through shone on his face and accentuated his cheekbone perfectly. His green eyes seemed unusually reflective and Marinette was captivated. She couldn't stop noticing little things, like the bit of hair that was ever so lightly brushing his forehead and how perfect his browline was.

She tried everything to stop thinking about him, but was utterly failing.

At long last, Chat turned back to her and she quickly glanced away so she didn't seem to be staring.

He smiled mischievously at her before opening the door and pulling her through.

In a box seat that was usually empty during performances, Marinette could see the entire workings of the opera. She could see Alya directing everyone for something that appeared to be unknown to everyone, including the cast.

Marinette heard Chats sudden intake of breath when Chloe stepped out. She was wearing a wonderfully made dress that was majorly comprised of gold and purple. Marinette couldn't help but appreciate the craftsmanship. Even if it was on Chloe.

Chat quickly excused himself, making up an obviously fake excuse, to which Marinette pouted, but allowed him to leave. She gazed at the ensuing performance, eager to figure out the purpose.

As the show progressed, it had a clear target. The performers frequently spoke of the "saboteur" and referenced some sort of kidnapping. They all seemed to be working towards a central point, but Marinette was unsure of what it could be.

The intensity of the show escalated to a point where the actors were throwing accusations around, never specifically pointing the finger at any one person and remaining vague in the description of the actual perpetrator, but seeming absolutely certain.

Suddenly, without any apparent cause, the dress that Chloe was wearing caught fire and the name was finally said.

"It's the work of the phantom!"

Marinette wasn't sure who had screamed those words, but it was clear that the fire had been unscripted.

The stage was abuzz with activity as the fire was put out and dozens of accusations poured from the performer's mouths.

All activity stopped when a loud, booming voice cut through the chaos.

"You dare accuse me of this act of vandalism?"

The words were not yelled or angry, but well projected nonetheless.

Marinette knew that voice. That lovely, lovely voice. The voice that had both haunted her and had given her purpose. She stood to see where he was, but was unable to locate him.

Alya stepped out onto the stage. She seemed to also be unsure of the direction from which the voice came. She addressed the room in general.

"I don't," she began, "but I insist you bring Marinette back. She belongs with the opera. I don't care if you started the first fire. I started this one in hopes of drawing you out."

Marinette winced when the voice returned, this time with cold, genuine anger.

"You would ruin that dress, that perfect, special, unique dress. To get me to talk to you?"

Alya could tell she must have crossed the line at some point. She began to get nervous.

"I truly apologize, but I want to clear the name of my dear friend, who has gone missing." She said pointedly. She clearly thought the phantom had taken Marinette.

Marinette smiled. Alya was a good friend, despite her tendency to be overbearing and jump to conclusions.

The voice laughed. "You think I kidnapped her? You truly know nothing. I would never harm a hair on Madam Dupain-Chengs darling little head. She is much too precious."

Marinette felt a fierce blush overcome her face at Chats words. She looked around to find him.

"Furthermore, anyone who would allow themselves to even consider that she would do anything with malicious intent deserves to be released from employment," Chats voice continued to boom over the entire room.

Marinette caught a glance of a quick movement in the rafters. She peered up at his usual spot. He must have been moving around so his position would not be determined by the onlookers. She couldn't find him or his luminescent green eyes.

There was a long moment of silence where employees of the opera house held their breath in anticipation of what they may hear next.

When the voice returned, not only did it seem Chat had deeply considered his next move, but Marinette could finally pinpoint his location. He was directly in the center of the rafters and he was staring at Marinette. She could almost see his grin as he continued.

"To show there are no hard feelings," he said, "I will return Marinette Dupain-Cheng to you. You may see for yourself that she has come to no harm and you may ask her if she was forced to comply or not."

There was a bit of commotion on the stage at his words, but he silenced them with another comment.

"My only condition is that you do not punish her for any accusation previously made and that you not pester her about me," he said.

After a pause, Monsieur Bourgeois was practically pushed onto the stage. He was visibly sweating and stuttered a bit in his response.

"Uh, um. Monsieur phantom, I accept your conditions and I hope we can remain on friendly terms in the future."

Chat narrowed his eyes at the man. He didn't seem particularly inclined to humor him.

Finally, he spoke. "We shall see, Monsieur. I will have to keep my eyes on you for the next while."

With that, Chat vanished into the darkness.


	32. Chivalry

Back in Chat's home, Marinette was having a hard time sorting through her emotions.

She had suddenly started having strange and confusing feelings for Chat, no, Adrien, and she didn't know why. She understood that he was handsome, mysterious, and a great singer, but she also knew that he had done some very questionable things. He had purposefully destroyed one of Chloes dresses, he had been threatening her and her father for the past who knows how long, and she had a sneaking suspicion that he was the reason his father no longer worked in the opera house.

Despite all this, she found herself blushing whenever he glanced her way or when he brushed past her. She felt like her head was full of cotton and she couldn't form complete thoughts when she was trying to talk to him. She had to slow down and say everything very deliberately so it didn't come out as complete nonsense.

She wasn't sure what to do with these new feelings either. She was just confused.

Chat extended his hand to Marinette, offering to lead her back to her room once again. Marinette blushed and shyly took his hand. Chat frowned as she stood up.

"Is something bothering you, Princess?" he asked, as if he had done something wrong.

Marinette quickly said "No, why do ask? I am perfectly fine. Nothing wrong at all."

She mentally slapped herself for that response and Chat didn't seem convinced. He gave her a skeptical look, but seemed to conclude that she was entitled to her own secrets as much as he was to his.

He led her down one of the tunnels, singing all the way. It reminded Marinette of the first time he had led her to her practice session and she was pleased to hear him sing again. His voice truly was the most amazing thing she had ever heard and her heart fluttered in her chest at the sound.

Eventually, she was back in her room and Chat was grinning at her like a child. He asked her about a million questions to make sure she was comfortable and kept asking if she would feel better if he stayed around to protect her. Marinette had a hard time telling him she would be fine, but she was worried about what would happen if he stayed.

Finally, hopped down from his perch on a tall chair and bowed to her. He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

"I will long for the next time we meet," he said.

Marinette could feel her face start to heat up.

"S-same to y-you," she managed to stutter.

Chat grinned on more time before disappearing without a sound.

Marinette put her cold fingers against her cheek. Her face must have been a brighter red than her opera dress.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Marinette decided to use some of her spare time at the moment to sort out her thoughts.

She knew Chat might have done some things out of anger, but everyone does that sometimes. Marinette could think of several times she had done that. He was still sweet and kind. He would do anything to make her happy and he was really a good person. Most of his anger was pent up depression about what had happened with his family.

Marinette came to the conclusion that he was generally a good person, but her thoughts strayed to his mask. She couldn't help but wonder what his power had done to his face that he would feel the need to hide it. She hoped that, with time, he would come to trust her with the knowledge of his one mystery, but she knew she would have to be patient.

Then, she had to decide what to call him. She had come to know him by Chat, but she now knew his name was Adrien. Adrien was definitely a name for someone as sweet and kind as him, but it didn't seem right. It could have been because of his cat ears that his mother had given him, or because he had some cat-like tendencies, but she couldn't bring herself to refer to him by Adrien.

She made up her mind to just ask what he would like to go by next time she saw him.


	33. Recovery

Marinette happily walked out to the backstage area to find her friends. She tried to ignore the strange looks the stagehands and other performers were giving her. She understood their need to be wary. She was involved with some very strange things going on.

She found Alya and Nino near the curtains. They seemed to be having a quiet argument, but they stopped when she approached.

Before she could say a word, Alya had her trapped in a bear hug. She could hardly breathe, but returned the hug.

Nino smiled at her as Alya finally loosened her grip.

"Girl, I thought we lost you," Alya said. She had her hands placed on Marinette's shoulders. She looked genuinely concerned.

Marinette smiled.

"Thanks Alya. You know I can take care of myself. There really wasn't a need to be worried," she said.

Nino furrowed his brow and stepped forward.

"Mari, are you sure?" he asked, "I mean, we have no idea what you have been up to and you keep going missing. How are we supposed to know you're alright?"

Marinette could see how worried her friends were. She felt a pang of guilt for worrying them.

"You're right, Nino. I wasn't thinking about how you guys felt,"

She pulled both of her friends into a tight hug.

"I will try to not make you guys worried again," she said.

Alya pulled away.

"Girl, if we aren't worried, you aren't doing anything. Just try to fill us in at some point so we don't always have to be in the dark," Alya said with a smile.

Marinette grinned back. "Thanks. You guys are the best," she said.

"We know," Nino and Alya said in unison.

Alya spent the rest of the day telling Marinette about everything that had happened while she was missing. Marinette had to stop avery few minutes to answer questions for stagehands, other performers, and the Bourgeois family about what had happened while she was gone. She politely answered some and declined to answer others, but the majority of the questions were about how she was doing.

Only Chloe broke that pattern.

"Ha! I can't believe everyone seems to think the Phantom finds something special about you," Chloe sniffed, "He probably only kidnapped you to keep you away from the stage. You are an awful performer and he probably only returned you because he couldn't stand you either."

Marinette frowned at the girl. She was tempted to lose her temper, but there was only one thing she really wanted to clarify.

"Chat didn't kidnap me," she said.

Chloe scoffed. "Of course he did. If he didn't abduct you, then where have you been? He probably had you tied up somewhere to keep you from being seen in public. He is simply a criminal who isn't worth our time. He deserves to be miserable. He might even deserve being hanged for what he has done to me."

Marinette clenched her fists. Chloe didn't know the first thing about Chat. He wouldn't purposefully hurt anyone. He was socially deprived, so he didn't know how to act around others. He was the kindest person she knew.

"Chloe, if anyone should be put away from public view, it should be you. You give this business a bad reputation and you speak of things that you know nothing about. I must request that you stop speaking about my friend in this manner or I will lose my temper," Marinette said.

Chloe flipped her hair haughtily.

"I've never seen you lose your temper. What will you do? Cry?" Chloe asked.

Marinette took a long, deep breath. "No, Chloe. I wouldn't waste my tears on someone like you. You aren't worth it," She said.

With that, Marinette punched Chloe square in the jaw. She hadn't done it as hard as she could have, but Chloe stumbled and fell to a sitting position on the ground. There was a bruise quickly darkening where Marinette's fist had made contact.

Chloe quickly began shouting for her father to help her.

Marinette retained her composure and slowly walked away. She could hear a bustle of activity as she left, and she knew she would probably pay for that, but she did not regret her decision. The bruise would fade before the day was out and Chloe would have no lasting effects, except, perhaps, being a bit wiser.

Alya, who had watched the entire thing from a distance, gave Marinette and approving look as she approached.

"Nicely done, girl. She had it coming," Alya said.

Nino walked up, shaking his head. "Mari, I know that probably felt amazing, but are you sure that was a good idea?"

Marinette shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know if I will regret that later, but I feel no remorse right now. She was speaking of things she is ignorant of at the moment. I needed to silence her."

Alya seemed to be perfectly satisfied with that answer, but Nino looked as unsure as ever. He refrained from saying anything, though.


	34. Repercussions

Marinette woke to the sunlight streaming through her window. It landed directly on her face and she glared up at the gap in the fabric. She thought curtains were supposed to block the sun.

Since she was up, she decided to get dressed and ready for the day. She slipped into one of her more comfortable dresses and laced up some tall sandals. She put her hair into her most comfortable hairstyle, two pigtails.

She went out to see if there was anything she could do to help the others in preparation for the next performance. She found Alya dragging Nino around at a quick pace.

"Alya, what are you doing?" Marinette asked.

Alya whipped around to face her. Nino seemed relieved at the pause.

"Girl! You haven't been around in forever. Nino and I have to keep ourselves busy somehow. We were just checking to see if anyone needed help with costumes or carrying anything," Alya replied.

Marinette smiled and said, "I was just about to do the same thing. Had any luck?"

Alya shook her head. "Nope. Almost everyone seems to be fine without our help. Want to do anything?" She asked.

Marinette thought for a moment. "Actually, I am absolutely starving. Can we go get some food?"

Alya smiled. "Of course. I know how you hardly ever eat. It's a wonder you aren't just skin and bones."

Nino agreed and they all made their way to a restaurant. Marinette was a bit curious about how Chloe was taking their interaction.

"Girl, you got lucky," Alya said, "she has been confined to her room. It seems her Pere's afraid she's going to make the phantom angry by bugging you. I think you got away with that punch."

Marinette smiled. "I don't think there will be no consequences, but I'm glad to hear she's in recovery."

Nino spoke up then. "Mari, you need to be more careful. I don't think you will be able to hide behind the phantom forever."

Marinette scowled at him for that. "I am not hiding behind him. I would never take advantage of him that way. It never even occurred to me that I might not be bothered because of him."

Nino raised his hands defensively. "Sorry Mari, I didn't mean to upset you. I just want you to be careful."

Marinette nodded. "I know. Sometimes it is just so hard to be patient with people," she said, "but I don't want anyone to think I am using my friend as a shield."

Alya reached forward and patted marinette's hand. "Don't worry. No one thinks that, but I would be careful if I were you."  
Marinette agreed.

Marinette returned to her room after a day of trying to be as helpful as possible and spending time with her friends.

She noticed the lack of notes or flowers on her desk and pouted. She had hoped to talk to Chat and to ask him about the name thing.

On a crazy hunch, Marinette walked over to the wardrobe and swung it forward. The door stood before her, cold and locked. She stepped forward and brushed her hand against the cold wood. She knocked softly, not expecting any reply.

The door swung open the moment her hand finished. Standing there, was a sheepish looking Chat.

Marinette grinned at him and invited him out of the dark hallway. He timidly entered her room and looked a bit like a child caught doing something they shouldn't.

Marinette shut the wardrobe over the doorway and turned to her guest.

"it's almost as if you expected me to knock," she chided.

Chat grinned. "What can I say? Princesses are like catnip for me," he said with a wink.

Marinette felt her face heat up with a blush, but managed to keep it mostly under control.

"Actually, I was wondering," she began, "what do you want me to call you? I mean, I know your real name now, but I can still refer to you as Chat if you want."

Chat seemed taken aback at her question. After his initial surprise, he pondered her request.

"M'Lady, I would love it if you would call me Chat. Though I may have been Adrien at one time, it no longer seems to fit," he said with a smile.

Marinette smiled in return.

"I thought so as well. Thanks, Chat."

They sat in a comfortable silence together for a while before Marinette seriously could not bear the curiosity that was eating away at her.

"What does your face look like?" She blurted.

Chat looked surprised and Marinette immediately regretted having asked.

Before Chat could answer, Marinette again spoke, "Sorry! I shouldn't have asked. You don't have to tell me if you aren't ready. That was so rude of me. Just forget I said anything."

Chat recovered quickly from his initial shock and smiled gently at the red faced girl. He pulled her into a careful hug.

"No need to apologize," he purred in her ear, "I know you are curious. I expected nothing less. That's one of the things I love about you. If you really want to know, I'll show you. Anything for you, Princess."

Marinette slowly pulled away from his grasp and looked him in the eye. She couldn't believe what he had just said. He would actually show her. She wasn't sure what to say.

After a brief pause, she slowly nodded her head.

Chat let out a small breath he had been holding in. He slowly moved his arms from around her. He kept eye contact the entire time as he lifted his hands up to his mask.

At the last moment, Marinette closed her eyes. She wasn't sure she really wanted this.

She felt a gloved hand grasp hers. Her hand was slowly lifted to where Chat's face was. The glove moved around to the back of her hand and pressed it against something rough. Her hand moved across the surface of his face. It was cracked and hard, as if it had been severely burnt. She felt tears prick her eyes and they fluttered open.

The entire right side of his face had the appearance of having been melted and burnt. The flesh was bubbled and black and very close to the bone.

The tears ran down her cheeks now as she stared at her Chat, and how he had been hurt. She leaned forward and began to sob into his chest. He pulled her close again and tried to comfort her.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Marinette cried.

Chat was silent as she cried. He rested his head on top of her hair.


	35. Hope

Marinette woke up with an awful headache from dehydration. Her face and eyes felt swollen as well. She had been laid on her bed and she had a blanket up to her shoulders. She sat up and looked around, but failed to find who she had been hoping to see.

She stood and cleaned herself up. She slowly processed what had happened the night before. She might find she regretted ever asking him to reveal that part of himself, but she also thought that she might be able to help him heal. She would never be able to fix what had happened to his face, but she could begin to repair the emotional damage. If he would let her.

She looked up into her mirror, with water dripping from her face. Her bangs stuck to her wet forehead, but her eyes were bloodshot. Her face had returned to its normal coloring, but she felt numb on the inside. Her heart ached, but she had started to become used to it already. She wondered how long it would last.

She quickly dried and tied up her hair in preparation to leave her room. She didn't feel like really trying, so she just put it in her favorite pigtails. She didn't pay attention to what dress she slipped into before she left to find Alya or Nino. She glanced once at the wardrobe before closing the door behind her.

Marinette tried to be happy for her friends as they spent the day together. She knew she would see her Chaton soon enough and the very thought of seeing him made her feel happy, but at the same time gave her a pang of sadness. She would be glad to see him.

Alya and Nino noticed her odd behavior, since she would often become lost in thought and was less happy, but they didn't pry at what was bothering her. She was thankful that they didn't push as she wasn't sure what she could say, but she was sad that she couldn't be as happy as usual for her friends.

She spent the day trying to keep up her mood, but her thoughts were plagued by the phantom she desperately wanted to see and anything she could possibly do to help him.

Eventually, she decided it had become late enough that she felt she could retire to her room for the night. She bid her friends goodbye and quickly went to her room. As she entered, she felt disappointment when she found her room empty. She walked to the wardrobe and swung it forward. The door was closed and she gave it a quick knock.

As had never happened before, there was no answer. The door remained closed and locked. Marinette knocked several more times, to no avail. She eventually sat in defeat on her bed. She felt she was near tears again, but she was mostly just confused.

At the time when Chaton must feel most vulnerable and when he must need the most help, he refused to see her. He abandoned her after showing that he trusted her with his entire past.

She couldn't process why, but she resigned to a fitful night's sleep.

Marinette couldn't understand. She was becoming increasingly frustrated that Chat refused to see her. It had been days since they had talked last and Marinette wanted nothing more than to see him again.

After they had reached a new level of trust, she was left on her own.

She sighed, resigning to wait until he was ready, but she had also decided to let him know she was still there for him.

She wrote him a letter and placed it in an envelope before slipping it under the door behind the wardrobe. She had hoped to hear him on the other side, but no sound came.

She replaced the wardrobe and left her room to see Alya.


	36. Revert

Marinette was wandering around the backstage area, with no apparent purpose as Alya and Nino were occupied. No one had felt they could approach Marinette with tasks since the incident with the Phantom, for fear of upsetting him. So, Marinette was left to her own devices as she tried to entertain herself.

She walked through the dark recesses of the opera house, unafraid. She had always had an affinity for the dark, possibly reinforced by her wanting to see Chat again.

As she walked, thinking to herself, she heard a slight shift in one of the darker corners of the area. She stopped in her tracks and peered towards where the sound had originated from. She could make out the shape of some boxes and crates. It must have been a storage area.

Fearing something may have moved or been in a precarious position, Marinette began moving into the area.

Suddenly, a familiar pair of luminescent eyes appeared in front of her.

Nearly laughing for joy, she sprang forward and hugged him tightly. She felt his shoulders stiffen under her arms momentarily before he relaxed. He slowly hugged her back.

Marinette stepped back. She was nearly crying now.

"Where have you been? I was so worried about you," she cried.

Chat's ears noticeably drooped at that before he pulled her into a door behind the crates.

They entered a fairly well lit room with no furniture apart from a few wooden chairs at the other end.

Chat looked upset and nervous about something and Marinette continued to insist he tell her where he had been.

"I, I was worried you wouldn't want to see me again," he began, "after you saw the real me. I mean, I know you deserve so much more. I can't possibly force you to do this anymore. I-"

Before he could say another word, Marinette had pulled him into another tight hug.

"I saw the real you long before I saw what was under the mask. You are a kind, amazing person who deserves friends just as much as anyone. Maybe more," Marinette said.

Pulling back, she continued, "Now, never scare me like that again. I was worried I had done something wrong or something had happened to you. I wanted to see you."

Chat's eyes had grown in surprise and he stared at her in silence for a moment before he all but lunged towards her and hugged her. He buried his head into her neck again and she laid her head on his.

"You could never do anything wrong, Princess. I'm sorry for scaring you," Chat whispered, "I was unsure of what to do. I thought you would hate me for what I am. At the very least, you might lose your friends because of me."

Marinette pushed him so she could look him in the eye, but where his arms remained around her waist.

"The only friends I would lose are those with small minds. In which case, I would prefer to be rid of them."

Chat smiled. "I was glad to receive your letter. I had worried you would have been glad for my absence, but I thought it would have been better for you."

Marinette smiled and blushed at his adorable thoughtfulness. "Chaton, the only thing I have been thinking about since you disappeared is how to find you," she said.

Chat blushed this time. He grinned.

"Thank you, M'Lady," he said.

Marinette talked with Chat for hours. He addressed the fact that people seemed nervous around her and she brushed it off saying it would return to normal soon enough. He seemed genuinely worried that he might be hurting her in some way, but Marinette refused to hear it. She forbade him from disappearing like that again and leaving her to wonder where he had gone. He didn't seem to have any objection to it and they agreed that he would not do that again.

Eventually, Marinette needed to get back to the opera house. They were both reluctant for her to go, but by now, people had begun to wonder where she had gone. They could hear Alya calling for her and they decided it would be best if she returned.


	37. Relief

Now that Marinette was back to her normal, happy mood, Alya had no inhibitions to asking Marinette about what had been causing her less than good mood the past few days.

As soon as Marinette answered Alya's calling for her, The smile and light blush on her face betrayed the fact that her mood had been restored.

"What had been making you so unhappy these past few days? What happened to make it better? Did it have anything to do with the Phantom? Did it have to do with Chloe? Is it about a guy? Where have you been? Why couldn't we find you? Why are you blushing?" Alya asked.

Marinette laughed. "All in good time, Alya. Why so curious?"

Alya huffed. "I've been dying to know what was up these past few days. It's a miracle I made it this far."

"Curiosity killed the cat, Alya. Can it do you any better?" Marinette questioned.

"Girl, curiosity is the essence of my being. I live off the stuff. Now answer my questions before it kills me."

Marinette smiled, but convinced Alya to wait. She had to figure out what she would tell Alya. She wasn't sure if she should tell her all or any of the truth. She knew Alya could keep a secret, but Marinette wasn't sure she wanted to tell her everything.

Marinette eventually resolved to discuss it with Chat before telling Alya anything.

For the rest of the day, Alya continued to shoot questions at Marinette in case she changed her mind. Marinette would smile, but still made her wait. Nino could tell something was up, but tried to stay out of it.

Eventually, Marinette told Alya that she would be able to answer some questions the next day, and bid her friends goodnight.

Entering her room, Marinette found Chat. He was curled up on the floor against her bed. Marinette was surprised. She had never seen him sleep before, but she guessed he may not have slept well the past few days either.

Marinette quietly walked over to him. She pulled a blanket off her bed and draped it over him.

His ears twitched and he inhaled deeply. Marinette sat against his stomach. She didn't want to be intrusive, but she was curious about something. She slowly reached out and gently scratched behind his ears. His body seemed to reach a new level of relaxation. He sighed, and then began making a strange sound.

As she continued, Marinette realized his whole body was vibrating with the sound. Her face grew hot and red as she realized what the sound was.

Chat was purring.

Marinette felt like she had crossed a line at that point and stopped scratching his head.

She could feel the change in his mood, and his ears flicked about.

After a moment, Chat slowly sat up. He looked at Marinette and cocked his head.

"Princess, why is your face red?" He asked.

Marinette blinked.

"Oh. No reason," she replied, "how are you feeling?"

Chat yawned before answering, "I am feeling very well. I hadn't intended to sleep yet, but I suppose I haven't slept well recently."

Marinette nodded. "Well, I have a situation I need to discuss with you."

Chat nodded for her to continue.

"My friend, Alya, has noticed a demeanor change in me the past few days and is asking me questions about it. I need to figure out what I can tell her."

Chat seemed almost to be expecting this. He nodded.

"M'Lady, I trust you, but I am glad you wish to discuss this with me first," he said.

Marinette smiled. "So, is there anything you would prefer me not tell her?" She asked.

As they conversed, Chat began wrapping some sort of belt around his hands. Marinette hadn't noticed that part of his outfit before. It had always been hidden under his cloak. When he released it, it fell to the floor beside him.

Marinette swore she saw it move on its own, but she knew it was just a trick of her eyes. After a few minutes, it had definitely moved. It seemed to be flicking back and forth like a tail.

At long last, Marinette couldn't stand it any longer.

"Chat. What is that?" She asked, pointing to the belt.

Chat blushed and again grabbed it and began wrapping his hand in it again.

"Well, you probably know about the ears and my eyes. My mother was talented with animal magic. The tail was a side effect of her attempt to repair the damage," he said.

So, it _was_ a tail. Marinette reached out and gently took it out of his hands. It felt just like a leather belt, but it moved with life. It flicked about in her hand.

She let go and they continued their conversation. Marinette knew she would have to keep her answers fairly vague, but she also knew Alya would be hard to satisfy.

They talked until they were too tired.

They shifted into a position where Marinette had her back to Chat's stomach and he set his chin on her shoulder. They sat comfortably until Chat began softly singing.

He sang a quiet lullaby and Marinette struggled to keep her eyes open. Eventually, she fell asleep.


	38. News

Marinette woke up to find herself alone. She was leaning against her bed, wrapped in her blanket. She could still feel the residual warmth of Chat's body against the blanket, so she knew she hadn't been alone for long.

She got up and prepared for the day. She knew she would not have long to wait before she could see him again and knew Alya would be expecting answers.

As she went to meet Alya, Marinette could hear whispers of gossip pulse through the stage employees. This was a usual occurrence ever since the incident with the Phantom, so she thought nothing of it.

When she met Alya, She could tell something was up. Alya didn't waste a single moment asking her questions about the past few days. She launched into a stream of information.

"Girl, I am so excited for you. I just heard you are being reinstated as the lead singer. Turns out, not even her father can tolerate Chloe for very long. This is going to be amazing. Your first performance is in a few days and we have so much to do before then. Don't even worry about answering my questions until after the show."

Marinette took a few moments to process what was being said.

"I've-I've been reinstated?" she asked.

Alya laughed. "I know, right? It's amazing! I'm so happy for you," she replied.

Marinette smiled. This was some exciting news she would be glad to share with Chat, if he didn't already know.

For the rest of the day, Marinette was busy preparing for the show that would be in a few days. Alya accompanied her to all her tasks. A new dress was started for her and she was instructed on the new music and positioning for the performance.

Marinette was thrilled to finally have the chance to sing again. She knew that was what she wanted to do for as long as she was capable. She loved it and it gave her life.

When the flurry of activity was over with, Marinette was drained and thankful to finally be free to return to her room. She walked there quickly and closed the door behind her.


	39. Fire

Chat was not in her room when she entered. Marinette supposed he had not wanted to be accidentally discovered, so had not come yet.

Marinette walked over and swung open the wardrobe and then the door behind it. She called softly into the darkness, not wanting to be heard by anyone in the hall.

There was no answer. Marinette waited for a moment before walking into the darkness. She had no light to guide her, but she wanted to make her way farther into the tunnels before calling out any louder. She hoped to be able to find her way to any room she recognized, or, even better, find Chat.

She had no clue where she was going, but after a moment of walking, she felt she could call out.

"Chat?" she called.

No answer.

She continued walking before a strong hand gripped her shoulder from behind. She spun around, unable to see in the dark. The owner of the hand quickly scooped her up with one arm under hers and the other behind her knees. They ran through the darkness until she found herself back in her room.

The arms belonged to Chat. He set her on her bed gently. The look on his face was partly concern and partly anger. Marinette couldn't understand either.

Chat kneeled at her feet. He looked up into her eyes. "Are you hurt? Are you okay? What happened? Why were you there? Why would you go there?" he asked.

Marinette was even more confused now. Chat had taken her there many times before. Why was this time any different? She hadn't gone far.

"I called for you. You weren't here and you didn't come. I thought I could find you, or you could find me," she said.

The look of concern was gone. In its place was sadness, still mixed with the anger. Chat lowered his head. For the first time, his ears and tail were completely still.

"Princess. You must never go in there alone. It is not safe. Not even for you. I was on my way to see you. Do you have no trust for me at all?" He asked. His voice quivered with the rage he was trying to control.

The tone in his voice surprised Marinette. She had never heard him with this level on anger. Not even when he had addressed the entire opera crew.

Marinette couldn't find the words to reply. She sat, with her mouth slightly open. In shock.

Chat's head snapped up suddenly. There was fire in his eyes.

Marinette jumped.

"Ha! I knew it," Chat said, "you do fear me. I knew I would never find a soul who could bear the thought of me. The one I trusted cannot trust me and has secretly feared me the entire time. How could I have been so foolish?"

At this, Marinette was about to interject, but Chat moved faster. He ripped his mask off. He was breathing hard and there was a look of insane outrage in his eyes that genuinely scared Marinette at this point.

"This is what I trusted you with. This is what you fear. This is what you hate. I am nothing to you but a pest. How could someone like you love something like me?" Chat shouted, "I should have remained in the darkness where I belong."

He turned and in an instant was gone. The door slammed behind him and the lock clicked.


	40. Letters

Marinette couldn't sleep. She couldn't stand the sadness and guilt that ate away at her. She sat up all night with a single candle. She wrote letter after letter, trying to accurately portray her feelings and beg for forgiveness. After several failed attempts, she gave way to exhaustion.

The next morning, Alya came to her door early. After knocking without reply, She let herself in. Upon finding Marinette, she knew something was very wrong.

Marinette was pale, feverish, and clearly ill. Alya forced her into her bed before leaving to get a doctor.

Nearly everyone crowded into her room to see if she would be well enough to sing at the next performance. She tried to assure them, but she was unsure herself. She simply could not live with herself. She had betrayed Chat, or he thought she had. Anything she had done to wrong him was not intentional, but she had no way of telling him that.

After a bit, she was left alone to rest. She stubbornly got up and resumed writing feverishly. Her hand ached, but she needed to apologize to Chat. She had to let him understand.

She wept. She could not stand knowing that she had indeed wronged him. Her heart ached with a pain she had never felt before. In the agony, she poured out her heart and soul into the words she wrote on the paper.

She wrote of how ill she felt at the thought of ever doing anything to betray him. She wrote, trying to say how she felt so undeserving now that she had hurt him. After all he had done for her, she had let him down in a way that she knew would hurt him until amends were made. She hoped he could understand how she felt, despite her not being able to speak her thoughts aloud.

At last, she wrote a letter that she felt nearly contained the full range of her sorrow. She continued to weep as she weakly pulled the wardrobe forward and slipped the letter under the door. She tried to speak to him through the door, hoping he was there to listen. She knew he would not answer, but she found her voice gone when she tried to speak.

Having nothing more she could do, She curled up in her bed and sobbed until she fell asleep.

Marinette woke to someone shaking her shoulders.


	41. Answers

The Shaking was from the hands of her friend, Alya. Marinette opened her eyes to see her concerned friend.

Alya sat back when she could see that Marinette was awake.

"I'm sorry Marinette," Alya began, "but I need some answers. Now."

Marinette sat up and nodded gravely.

Alya leaned forward. "What has caused you to fall so violently ill so suddenly?" She asked.

Marinette nearly began sobbing again.

"Oh, Alya. I have betrayed a dear friend. I fear I have lost them forever. How could I have been so foolish?"

At this, she burst into tears. Alya moved over to sit next to her and hugged her tightly.

"Marinette. I can't imagine you doing anything that bad. Surely you are overreacting," she said.

Marinette shook her head. "No Alya. You don't understand. After I was trusted with the most important, sacred secret, I betrayed that trust and I fear the damage is too great to be undone. I will never be trusted again and they will never return."

Alya could see she meant every word and did not argue this time. She just hugged Marinette as the girl sobbed into her shoulder.

At long last, Alya pulled back. "Mari, who could this be that they mean this much to you? Who could give you such agony?"

Marinette shook her head. "It is not his fault that I feel this way. As for who, I can only tell you that he is an angel. An angel of music it seems. A broken, lonely angel," She said.

Alya felt Marinette's forehead, checking for a fever. Her face was warm from crying, but not feverishly so.

"Marinette. Who is this angel? How can I find him?" Alya asked.

Marinette laughed bitterly. "Oh, Alya. You do not find him. If he want's to, he finds you," she said "and I am sure he will not be out to talk to you any time soon."

Alya stopped talking. She quietly brought over the soup she had gotten for Marinette and gave it to her. She left in silence. Leaving Marinette to rest.

After Alya left, Marinette noticed a single rose, laying on the floor by her wardrobe. Around it, was a black ribbon.


	42. Invitation

Marinette was no longer ill, but she had not returned to her fully energetic and happy self. She promised she would be well enough for the performance and she practiced. Her heart was not in it as it had been before, but Monsieur Bourgeois seemed pleased with her.

Marinette felt as if she was floating through water through the day. She was not in full contact with the world, but she was moving slowly and coldly. The rose had given her assurance that Chat would not leave her forever, but she knew she was not yet forgiven. The door remained locked, and she remained alone.

Nearing the end of the day, she was approached by the owner of the house.

"Good evening, Monsieur Bourgeois. How can I help you today?" Marinette asked politely.

"You have done very well and I am glad to announce that after your first reinstated performance, there will be a gala in your honor. A masquerade ball, in fact." He said proudly.

A spark of joy ignited in Marinette at that. She would be glad to have something to look forward to. Her parents would probably be able to attend, which made her happy. She would be glad to see them again after so long.

Marinette continued until night, a bit more lighthearted than before, but still under the weight of her sadness.

She did not know the extent to which her forgiveness went, but she knew Chat would not be waiting for her in her room. She knew he would not come, and she knew he would not sing to her.

Marinette went to bed, trying to focus on the excitement of the upcoming events, but she couldn't take her mind away from her angel.


	43. Regret

The day of the performance arrived and Marinette prepared for the stage. She dully moved between tasks, not really absorbing any of what happened around her. She practiced the music and the stage position and movements, but she was unaware of her own existence in the way a drop of water may not know it is in the ocean.

She was suddenly scooped into a bear hug. She snapped back to reality and inhaled the familiar scent of fresh bread. When she was released, she turned to see her father. She returned his tight embrace and then turned to her mother.

"I didn't think you would be coming until tonight," she said excitedly.

Her mother smiled. "We couldn't wait to see you. We can't believe you have become the lead singer. We are so proud," her mother responded.

Marinette hugged both her parents, glad to finally see them again. It was of great comfort to her to have them there. She felt she could take part of their naivety while they were there and it could distract her from her own problems.

Marinette had her parents stay with her for the remainder of her preparation. She talked of the opera and different things that had happened. She did not feel comfortable speaking of Chat, so she skirted around the subject of the phantom. She left out most details that had to do with him, but she did enjoy talking of her friends and of her new passion for the opera.

When the time for the opera arrived, Marinette's parents left her to take their seats for the performance. Marinette was thrilled to have them here for her new role. She worked as best she could to be prepared and waited backstage for her part.

When her que came, Marinette walked onto the stage. As she began to sing, she caught sight of movement in the rafters again. Her gaze fixed upon the green eyes she had not expected to see. They were still hard with emotions she couldn't read from that distance, but they showed no joy.

As the show progressed, Marinette could feel her eyes sting with tears as she knew Chat had not fully forgiven her. She knew there was nothing she could do now. She felt completely helpless now. If he did not forgive her now, she knew he was lost. She had lost him.

Her heart was not in the music, but she tried as she could to make it unnoticed. She tried to sing as well as she could, despite the intense despair she felt.

Nearing the end of her song, the piercing eyes seemed to soften slightly, but Marinette could not tell if it was towards her or from sheer weariness. She knew full well he didn't sleep much by his own choice.

Before she left the stage, Marinette saw the swirl of his cloak and, like the phantom he was meant to be, he vanished.


	44. Dance

**Authors Note:**

 **So, I'm not really one for Authors Notes, but here we go. I really, really hope you all like this chapter. This is one of the scenes I have had in mind since the beginning and I hope it lives up to everyone's hopes. Thanks.**

 **Continue.**

After the performance, Marinette was ushered into a private room to prepare for the masquerade. She was put in a dress she had never seen before. The bottom of the skirt was several layers of black ruffles. The main skirt part was a dark red, almost maroon fabric that came to a diagonal end above the ruffles. The bodice was a Black corset with red stitching and laces. The top had matching dark red ruffled straps over short, black sleeves. Around her waist was a red sash that was dark enough that it could almost be mistaken for black in certain lighting.

Marinette thought it was perfect, as it matched her mask and was not overly extravagant. The design was not over the top, but was stunning nonetheless.

Tikki helped her put her hair into thick curls that hung around her shoulders. Marinette was excited despite herself. She was nearly bouncing with joy as she got ready.

When the time came for the masquerade to start, Marinette was told to wait until all the guests were in the ballroom so she, as the star of the show, could make a grand entrance. She wasn't particularly fond of the idea of being the center of attention in a social setting, but it seemed unavoidable.

As she waited, her mind raced with different situations and how she should respond to them. How was she supposed to talk to people? There were probably some really famous or rich people there. How was she expected to act?

Finally, it was time. She entered through a side door and all eyes were on her. She smiled and scanned the room. She could easily identify her parents on the other side of the room. Her Pere was such a tall man that, standing next to such a small woman made them an obviously odd couple. They were not wearing masks, but her maman had a silver mask in hand.

They waved as she entered. The suits and dresses filling the room were beautiful and Marinette drank it in. She was approached by numerous people who wanted to ask her about the opera or congratulate her on the performance. Marinette responded with short, polite comments. None of the guests brought up anything that she wished to continue a conversation on, so she hardly spoke to anyone for more than a moment.

For what seemed like hours, Marinette floated from one interaction to another, never staying too long. After a while, a dance was organized.

Many couples organized into formation and swirled around the floor. The music guided them through the motions and around the room. The sight reminded Marinette of a small school of fish she had seen in a river once. They moved around each other as if they knew the thoughts of the others. Flawlessly in unison.

Marinette was content to watch and converse with her friends and parents. At least, until she saw him. The moment he came into view, it seemed that almost everyone noticed him.

At the top of one of the staircases at the end of the room, stood a tall figure. His outfit was breathtaking. A hush came over the room as his presence was made known to everyone in attendance. He seemed and ethereal being, motions so fluid he could easily be mistaken as an actual apparition.

Marinette recognized him by the ears on his head. The ears she had closely inspected once, and she now knew the cause of their peculiarity.

Chat wore a black suit. The edges were trimmed with black fabric that shimmered green when he moved. He wore a different mask than usual. It covered most of his face. It followed his hairline and was asymmetrical, with the right side coming down to his jaw and the left side curving under his eye and up to his temple. The part over his nose was slightly shaped into the muzzle of a feline. The entire thing was black and had some curved points shaped over his face.

Chat's hair was slicked back. He was wearing a short cape that came to just behind his knees. The fabric of the cape had been gathered and cinched in areas so it almost resembled the hair of a cat standing on end.

As he descended the staircase in silence, the crowd of people slowly dissolved into whispers, like the morning sounds of birds in a forest that had just emerged from darkness.

Marinette felt someone walk up next to her as she watched Chat descend. After a moment, she recognized the voice.

"He must be so rich," Chloe said, "He is also handsome. He will no doubt want to dance with me."

Marinette turned to Chloe. She didn't say anything to her, but she wanted Chloe to know that she acknowledged her and did not believe her. She could not possibly know if he was indeed "handsome" because of the mask. She gave Chloe the most skeptical look she could as the blonde continued.

"I will most definitely have him wrapped around my finger by the end of the night. No man in his right mind could refuse myself."

At that moment, Chloe had her head turned in an attempt to appear as if she was the queen of the ball. Her chin tilted up and she looked down upon the dancers.

Marinette felt a presence behind her and turned. She found herself looking up into Chat's brilliant, green eyes. He bowed and extended a hand.

"Good evening, M'Lady. Would you permit me this dance?" He asked.

Marinette blushed. She nodded and accepted his hand. She glanced back to see Chloe's expression of unbelief.

As they began dancing, Chat pulled Marinette close. She looked into his eyes and did not see any of the anger she had expected. He seemed sad and guilty. There was also a look she couldn't place. An emotion she had never even seen a trace of in his eyes. She couldn't explain why, but it sent a shiver through her.

Chat gave her a sad smile.

"I am very sorry Angel," he said, "My anger was misplaced. You meant no harm and could not have known of the danger."

Marinette was surprised at this sudden apology. She also noticed his new name he had used for her. It was what she had called him when she was speaking with Alya.

"I know you have felt more sorrow than you deserve to have. After tonight's disgraceful performance, I would say you are still in need of lessons. I would be glad to have you continue taking lessons from me," Chat said.

Marinette could feel her body threatening to cry at this, but she managed out a laugh at his sarcastic criticism. She nodded and Chat gave a small sigh of relief. She could feel his entire body relax.

She became suddenly aware of their close proximity. Her face grew hot and she knew it was red. She hoped Chat wouldn't notice.

Luckily, he seemed preoccupied with some other thoughts.

After a moment of silent dancing, with no sound between them but the music, Chat spoke again.

"You look beautiful tonight," he said.

This comment did nothing to keep the blush from Marinette's face.

"Thank you. You look amazing as well," she replied.

The majority of Chat's face was covered, but Marinette thought she saw a bit of pink appear near the bottom of the mask.

"Thank you," he said, "I had a bit of a struggle putting this look together. Had to make it fit with the ears and hide the tail. I think it works though."

Marinette had to hand it to him. It really looked nice. Though, not many could have pulled off the kind of cape he was wearing. He made it look perfect.

At the end of the dance, Marinette saw a man walk up behind Chat. She did not recognize him, but the man's eyes were fixed on the back of Chat's head, so she figured she wasn't meant to.

When he was just a foot behind Chat, Chat spun around. They locked eyes and Chat's ears flattened against his head. He looked as if he was just refraining from hissing. His body was tense and slightly lowered, like he was preparing for an attack. He put his arm protectively in front of Marinette.

The man was wearing a dark purple mask with grey or silver accents that matched the suit he was wearing. His eyes never even flicked towards Marinette. He only stared at Chat with a look that had so many emotions, Marinette couldn't distinguish them individually. None were positive.

The music finished and the hall filled with silence again as the two locked gazes.


	45. Anger

The exciting mood of the room dissipated as the two men stared at each other with varying emotions. Chat's face contained mostly anger, but there were also traces of fear and defiance.

The strange man seemed content with waiting for Chat to make the first move. Chat seemed to be weighing his options.

At long last, Chat bared his teeth and spat a few quiet words.

"What are you doing here?" he all but hissed.

A look of victory flitted across the man's face.

"Adrien, as it happens, I was invited. I could ask you that same question though," the man said.

At that, Chat glanced back at Marinette before scanning the room. A fraction more fear entered his gaze as he looked back to the man.

"I don't need an invitation," he tentatively said.

The man nearly snorted.

"And why is that?" he asked, "How do you think the owner of the opera house feels about that?"

Chat glanced at Monsieur Bourgeois. Then, he stood up straight, giving the man a look of pure defiance.

"I run this opera house. The fool can't do anything to me," he said.

Marinette was surprised at Chat. She had never heard him speak ill of anyone other than Chloe, and even then, he had been fairly courteous.

The man's small smile that had been slowly appearing vanished in an instant. He furrowed his brow at Chat.

"You have changed, Adrien," the man said.

The corners of Chat's mouth twitched up into a wry smile.

"I'm glad you knew me well enough to notice a change. I never felt that close to you," he said.

The man's frown deepened.

"I did try. You didn't make it easy," he began, his eyes flicked to Marinette. "Keeping secrets from us."

Chat visibly tensed and his hand gripped Marinette's forearm.

"You speak as if there was another who I kept secrets from. Now, do you need something of me?" Chat asked, "or will I be deprived of the opportunity to deny you again?"

The man looked unsurprised. He turned to the crowd of people, who were watching, enthralled by the scene. Marinette could tell his only intention in his next actions was destruction.

"You know who I am I assume?" he asked. The crowd pulsed with confirmation.

"And you know of the conditions of my wife's death," he stated.

Marinette was beginning to be very worried. She gripped Chat's arm and tore her gaze away from the man to look at her friend. His gaze was fixed in a scowl, directed to the man.

The man swept his arm towards Chat, who moved so Marinette was fully behind him. He stood defiantly, staring at the man.

"This is my son, Adrien Agreste. He is responsible for my wife's death and for the incidents at this opera house," the man declared. His voice reverberated to every ear.

There was a pause before all eyes turned to Chat. The cat ears in his blonde hair twitched and swiveled in every direction. He was thinking quickly. Marinette could tell. His gaze was still fixed on his father.

In one, swift motion, Chat turned and looked into Marinette's eyes, as if he was trying to communicate with her. In his gaze, she could understand what it was he was trying to say. The look told her not to worry for him and that he wanted her to be safe.

A split second later, he produced a rope from somewhere under his cape and whipped it up to a chandelier. He quickly ascended in the burst of activity that followed his movement.

The crowd of people surged forward toward Chat, shouting and running. He swung up and landed on a high ledge. He turned to look over the crowd.

Marinette was nearly trampled as shouts of "murderer" and "criminal" cycloned through the room. She felt herself being scooped up by a large, strong hand. Her father all but carried her away from the mob.

She made eye contact with Chat for a brief moment before she was pulled into another room. She heard Chat's voice rise above the noise of the crowd.

"I apologize for the commotion. I assume you have realized I am the Phantom of the opera house. I must not be exactly what you expected. The masquerade was quite enjoyable, but I feel I must leave you now," His voice boomed through the room. The mob fell silent.

"I must warn you, before I depart. To follow me would be a grave error, and to assume I can be dealt with by normal means would result in a catastrophic occurrence. Do not attempt either. I still control this theater and am not hindered by a physical form as you might expect."

With that, he disappeared in a small puff of smoke. Hearing this recounted later, Marinette knew it was a trapdoor, but the audience to this thought it could only be the work of the ghost.

Marinette's parents were trying to keep her calm, unaware that she was not even near feeling threatened by the figure she had been dancing with. She only feared the man who had caused this entire scene.

At that moment, Monsieur Bourgeois burst into the room. He walked swiftly to Marinette, who looked up at him calmly.

"What just happened?" he asked loudly.

Marinette smiled sympathetically. "Monsieur, I know you must be worried and a bit frightened. I assure you he means no harm," she said.

The man huffed. "No harm? He disrupted the entire gala and threatened us all."

Marinette furrowed her brow at him. "He does not intend to harm you. He wishes to be left alone. If his requests are followed, no harm will come to anyone," she said, "And, I might add, no commotion was made about him before that man set out to destroy him."

Bourgeois began pacing. He was clearly still upset, but he seemed to be completely out of ideas.

Finally, he turned back to Marinette. "Madame, you must tell me all you know about that specter. I must know who I am dealing with."

Marinette shook her head. "I cannot tell you more than you know already," she said.

He looked flustered at that. "What do you mean by this? You have dealt with him more than any. You must know at least a bit more than I," he all but whined.

Marinette nodded. "I did not say I knew no more than you, I said I cannot tell you more. He would not like it," she finalized.

Marinette's parents interrupted at that point.

"You mean you really have met this man before?" her mother said, leaning in and grasping her hand.

Marinette turned to her mother and smiled gently.

"Yes Maman. I have met him before, but do not worry for me. He has not, and would not harm me," she said softly.

Her father then spoke, "you know him well?"

Marinette shrugged, a light blush coming over her cheeks.

"As well as I can know him," she said, "We have spoken."

Her parents paused for a moment before turning their gaze to Monsieur Bourgeois.

"Our daughter will not say anything unless she is willing. If you are quite finished, you must have other matters to attend to," her father said sternly.

Monsieur Bourgeois took a deep breath and nodded before turning and walking back out the way he came. They could hear people talking over one another to ask what had happened.

Once he was out of the room, Marinette was fixed in her parent's gaze. She knew they wanted more of an explanation, but Marinette wasn't sure what to say to them.

Her mother spoke first. "How long have you known him?"

Marinette racked her brain, trying to figure out exactly how long it had been. It felt like she had always known him, but, looking back, she realized it had been just a few months.

"Um, since around the time I was allowed to sing in the opera, the first time," she tentatively said, "You may remember me writing you that I had a singing instructor."

Her parents looked extremely concerned.

"Do you trust him?" her father asked.

Marinette pondered that for a moment.

"I do not know the full extent of his capabilities, but I trust him to do what he sees is best for me."


	46. Questions

When the man was found, he had the air of a man without a care in the world.

He nonchalantly asked to speak with Marinette and she accepted more out of curiosity than anything else.

She found his face unremarkable without the mask he had worn previously. He held little resemblance to Chat and his face betrayed little emotion. His grey eyes seemed to be calculating her every move.

He sipped his tea as she sat in a chair facing him.

Setting the cup back onto its saucer, he addressed her.

"I would appreciate it if you were to remove your mask as well," he said.

Marinette felt no reason to leave it in its place, so gently removed her mask and set it aside. She could tell he now studied her face intently.

"Now that we are both seen as we are, I would ask of you one thing," He began again, "how exactly is your relationship with my son?"

Marinette pressed her lips together.

"I think, Sir, it is my place to ask questions of you," she said, "Who exactly are you?"

The man smiled.

"I am Gabriel Agreste. I was once a designer and tailor for this very opera house. That was before the death of my wife."

Marinette nodded.

"And Adrien Agreste is your son?" she asked.

Gabriel nodded silently.

"I dare say he looks more like his mother than you though I have never seen her," Marinette stated.

Gabriel almost smiled.

"Indeed. He acts much more like her than me as well. I wonder sometimes if I contributed at all to his being. But, no matter. I wished to speak to you."

Marinette acknowledged this.

"Indeed. As you asked, I will tell you how my relationship with your son is," she said, "If you want to know, we are very well. Thank you for your concern."

Gabriel frowned.

"I should have thought you would have understood the true meaning of my question," he said.

Marinette was unconcerned with patronizing this man, so responded, "Indeed, Sir, and I would have thought you would have to be satisfied with my being entirely blunt with you."

Gabriel seemed almost amused with her response this time.

"Forgive me," he said, "I underestimated you."

Marinette nodded.

Gabriel sipped his tea again.

"How did you come to know him?" He asked.

Marinette could find nothing wrong with this question.

"He offered to train my voice," she said.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at this. His head bent down ever so slightly. In nearly a whisper, he said, "He seems to have done well, then. I hardly knew he sang at all other than his foolish aspiration to make it his profession."

Marinette studied his face. "Monsieur, I can sing better than I did tonight and he sings far better than that. If you knew nothing of this, I wonder that you knew him at all."

Gabriel's head turned up at her words. He studied her carefully.

"I wonder as well," he said. He showed the first sign of true feeling at this point. He seemed slightly pained at the thought of how little he knew about his own son.

Marinette was even more curious now.

"His mother. Did you truly love her?" she asked.

Gabriel stared at the table.

"If it was any other, I would say it was none of your business, but you deserve to know, I think," he said, "I loved her more than life itself. She thought less of me than I of her. Her soul belonged to the opera, and mine belonged to her."

Marinette heard him, but she was not sure if she truly believed him. His treatment of Adrien caused her skepticism. If he loved her, he should have loved every part of her, including their son.

Gabriel glanced up at her. He laughed bitterly.

"I can see you do not believe me, and for good reason," he said, "If I loved her, why not him?"

Marinette waited for him to continue.

"You see, I knew if he was like his mother, his heart would belong to his work and none other. I wanted him to find passion in something that would not consume him as it had her. I tried to keep him from that, but it was of no use. I could not deny his nature. This caused my frustration. I grew to hate him for my own failure."

Marinette pitied Gabriel, but she did not condone him.

"I know I am a selfish man for hating my own son. I never truly hated him until the night she died. I know exactly what happened, but I could not have done anything for either of them. I was destroyed that night and I hated him for it. I cannot for the life of me find it in my heart to forgive him for my pain. He thinks me cruel, and I am."

Marinette could not bring herself to say anything. She feared she may not be able to say anything kinds to him unless it was not sincere.

Gabriel quickly assumed his usual, business like posture and asked Marinette more questions. Some, she was obliged to leave him no answer to due to her not wanting to give him any insight into how next he could hurt Chat. She told him anything he could not do anything with and left feeling she had come out more informed than he.

Marinette was allowed to return to her room, and she was grateful. Alya came with her, curious as usual.

"Do you really know him?" Alya asked.

"Alya, as I have said before, I know him as well as anyone. Do you have nothing else to ask?"

Alya shook her head.

"Mari, how could you have kept this from me? I have so many questions. And this whole time you have been acting as if phantoms are a myth."

Marinette shook her head at her silly friend.

"Alya, he is no specter. He is a lonely soul that enjoys the opera. That is all," she said.

Alya was about to continue speaking, but two small stagehands burst in the door at that moment.

In the flurry of excited chinese, Marinette could only look to Plagg for help. He held up a finger in an indication to wait. After the initial excitement was over, he stepped forward.

"Tikki was attempting to tell you that the show for tomorrow was unexpectedly changed. You will be performing the show you first sang in when your predecessor quit," he said.

Marinette was a bit confused at the sudden change, but shrugged it off. She would be glad to sing anything. Especially now that Chat was not angry with her.

She quickly confirmed some details with the stagehands before Plagg led Tikki off to help elsewhere.

When Alya was finally convinced to leave her be, Marinette was relieved to hear Chat behind the door.

"Has she finally gone?" he asked in a hushed voice that carried surprisingly well through the door.

Marinette pulled the wardrobe forward and pulled him into a tight hug. He seemed thrown a bit off by this, his body stiff initially. He slowly returned the hug, his body relaxing into hers.

After a moment, he pulled away, holding Marinette at arms length. He looked into her eyes and smiled. He was wearing his normal set of clothes and his usual mask.

"And now, Angel of music, are you ready to practice for tomorrow?" he asked.

Marinette beamed at him and confirmed it.

She grasped his hand as he led her into the darkness once more.


	47. Hunt

Marinette practiced for the opera with Chat before bed, and in the morning, spent hours more. She was glad to finally be back to this point. She loved to sing with him, and he seemed more open to singing with her now.

Only one thing made her less than perfectly happy. She could still detect the strange look in Chat's eyes when he looked at her. She could still not identify what it was, and it bothered her to not know.

At long last, the time came when she was to sing again, and she was delighted. Chat bid her good luck and they separated.

The entire opera house was in a frenzy. The change of performance seemed to have caused a lot of usually absent work. The crew was working furiously to get the correct set on the stage and double checking that everything was where it was supposed to be.

When the time finally came, Marinette walked on stage and began her performance. She could tell she was singing better than she had ever sung before. She could feel the difference in the reaction of the crowd, the crew, and the feeling overall she had during the song.

What she noticed the moment she set foot on stage was that box five was empty. This was strange since it was the most optimal seating, but she tried to focus on the performance. She also noticed that Chat was not perched in the rafters as usual. Part way through, she noticed why. She saw his luminescent eyes gazing at her from the darkness in the empty box seats.

She wondered about this, but also tried to focus on the song. She couldn't dwell too long on such details as those. She resolved to ask Chat about it next time she saw him.

When the show was over, Marinette received many compliments and flowers from friends and admirers. She accepted them all with a kind smile, but was thinking of only one person. She endured it all until she was finally allowed to her room.

When at long last she was alone in her room, Marinette was flushed from excitement. She heard the approaching footsteps from behind her wardrobe and turned to meet him.

Chat entered, looking a bit more flustered than Marinette expected. He walked swiftly over to her. He grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"Princess, you were perfect tonight," he said.

Marinette heard several sets of boots coming down the hall to her room. Chat's ears flicked in an agitated manner, he clearly heard them too. He grimaced.

"I had hoped it would take them a bit longer to come this way," he said.

Before he gave any more explanation, he pulled his body very close to Marinette's. She blushed profusely. She felt his arm reach around her and his eyes were locked on hers. She heard the lock on her door click.

Chat nearly carried her again as he pulled her quickly through the door behind the wardrobe. Chat paused for a moment to lock that door as well, before they went deeper into the darkness.

They finally stopped in a room Marinette had never been in before. It wasn't so much a room as it was a cavern. The ceiling extended up, past where the candlelight illuminated. There was a large body of water about a hundred feet in front of them.

Marinette could see a light across the water, but the darkness around it made it impossible to tell what it was from.

Chat led her to the edge of the water before speaking.

"I know you want to know what is going on," he said, glancing back at her. "That fool who owns the opera house was a bit put out by a few of my requests. He called in a small police force to catch me."

Marinette frowned. She had been wondering, but she was still not sure why he had brought her here.

Chat stopped walking and turned to her. His eyes burned with that look that Marinette had yet to name. It was a bit frightening to see, but she remained calm. Chat slowly reached a hand out and cupped it behind her neck, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"Angel, the world above surely does not deserve you. They, who live on hate and light, can never truly appreciate the beauty of perfect, artistic music. Those who live above are not worthy of the portion of heaven you bring with you," he said.

These words surprised Marinette. She was speechless. The look in his eyes was still nagging at her. She knew what it was, but couldn't quite place it.

Chat began to lead her to a boat that was near the water's edge. As he stepped on, Marinette took her hand from his.

"Chat, I trust you, but where are you taking me?" she asked.

Chat seemed stunned.

"I have told you the world above does not deserve you. I am taking you where they can never find us. Those fools who look only on outer beauty, and do not appreciate the truth of perfection in music, cannot follow us any longer," He said, as if it should have been obvious to her.

Marinette took a hesitant step back.

"Chat, I truly believe you want this, but you have forgotten one thing," she said.

Chat waited expectantly.

Marinette took a deep breath.

"Chat, I can never leave the opera. I cannot live when I am not a part of it," she said.

Chat began to protest, but Marinette stopped him.

"You spoke of the perfection of music and I agree. There is perfection in music and I cannot live without it. My soul yearns for the opera whenever I am away from it. Surely you can understand that," she finished hopefully.

Chat's gaze grew sad and his head dropped, but he nodded.

"Indeed, I do. I had expected this, but I had hoped your feelings for your work would not prevent you from coming," he said mournfully, "but I see you are determined. I will return you to the opera house, but the invitation still stands. I wish for nothing more than your safety and happiness."

Marinette was glad to hear he would bring her back. She truly could not bear to be away from the opera house. She was only sad to hear Chat speak with such a somber tone. She hoped she had not hurt him in any way.

Chat perked up suddenly and stepped off the boat. He walked up to Marinette and grasped both her hands in his. He looked into her eyes again before leading her down a dark corridor once again.

When Marinette was returned, she found the opera house in an uproar. Everyone was either looking for her, or the "phantom". She quickly found Alya and prodded information out of her.

Apparently, the policemen had tried to ambush Chat when he was in box five, but he had narrowly evaded them. He had injured several of the men and nearly killed two of them. The injured men had been taken to a hospital and a dozen more had come in after.

They were frantically trying to find Chat. The only problem was, anyone who ventured down into the catacombs below the theater were met with traps and defense mechanisms of every sort.

The men found themselves dropped into pits by trapdoors or having their feet snared by ropes as they ventured further down. A few of them claimed to have been set on fire, but it was quickly put out and no one was seriously harmed in that case. Several men reported hearing thuds as they walked, they described them as sounding like a crossbow firing directly into wood or something of that sort. Many of the men were too spooked to resume the search and they begged others to stay behind as well.

They each felt lucky to be alive, but they still needed to find a way down.

Marinette was surprised to hear about the traps, but she assumed they were what Chat had been worried about when she ventured into the darkness. She felt a slight pang of guilt for going down without him. She understood now that he was angry with himself for letting her. Instantly after the guilt receded, Marinette found herself taken up in an intense feeling of affection for him.

She paused for a moment at this. She realized finally exactly what her emotions had been at war with themselves over. She knew at that moment that she loved him, but she was at a loss for what to feel know. Acknowledging her feelings brought more confusion than peace.

What do you do when you are in love with one who is either hated, feared, or believed to be nonexistent?


	48. Act IV-V

Marinette tried to convince the policemen to stop going down in search of Chat. The chief agreed, but Marinette was not fooled by his statement. She knew very well he was going to continue chasing the Phantom. She only hoped, in an attempt to deceive her, he would send fewer men down and less frequently.

Chat visited her more now. He seemed to be either nervous that the men would find him if he stayed down there, or upset at having to listen to them search for him.

Whenever it came up, Chat seemed very bothered that Marinette knew about the traps. He tried very hard not to talk about it and he was even more bothered by the reports of injuries to the men. He hated being the cause for their pain, but he was constantly at war with himself over whether or not he should turn himself in.

Marinette forbade him from doing any such thing. She refused to let him blame himself for what was happening. The men should not be going after him in the first place, so anything that happened to them was because their chief refused to relent. Marinette was also sorry that they were being hurt, but she knew Chat must have something down there worthy of all the protection.

When Chat was around, Marinette could tell something was bothering him. His ears pricked at any sound and he very rarely let his guard down. Marinette tried her best to make him feel safe, but she really had very little control over anything.

Alya was almost constantly trying to catch Chat with Marinette, but he could always hear her coming and was long gone before she entered the scene with wild eyes. Marinette found it very amusing when Alya would become increasingly frustrated to finding absolutely no one.

Chat's mood seemed to lighten a bit every time he left the girl huffing and out of breath with nothing to show for it. He would reappear with a slight grin on his face and a mischievous glint in his eye. Marinette was glad to see him like that. He seemed happier than he had been for a while, but he was still so on edge that a pin dropping could make his blood run cold.

Marinette decided enough was enough though when she entered her room with a tray of bread and honey and Chat nearly jumped out of his skin.

"That is it" she said, "I can't take it any longer."

Chat seemed bewildered at her statement. His eyes were wide and he slowly turned hi body to completely face her.

"I must insist you tell me what is bothering you. You knew it was me coming, yet you were still startled at my entrance. You have been on edge for days now and I must know why."

Chat's face warped with guilt and fear. His posture slackened and he shrank under her gaze. He could not meet her eye and was soon sitting on the ground. He curled up and hugged his knees to appear as small as possible.

Marinette knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. She was sorry to see him like this.

His tail wrapped itself around her ankle as she made him meet her gaze. She knew he could not get past whatever it was until he told her.

"Angel, I do not wish to trouble you with this. It is my guilt to bear and should not bother one such as you," Chat said.

Marinette removed her hand from his shoulder.

"Chat. Whatever it is is clearly destroying you from the inside out and nothing can make it go away unless you can trust me with one more secret," she said gently.

Chat looked at her with wide eyes. In that moment, She could no longer find the look that had caused her so much concern and he showed only admiration and hope in that gaze.

Chat nodded slightly.

"I suppose it is silly, or you may think it so, but I cannot help but feel that I cause more trouble than I am worth. I have been the reason for my own mother's death and the misery of far more than ever deserved it. Even you, who I promised myself I would never harm, you suffer because of me," Chat began, "And, I suppose, in a way I feel I deserve to be caught and punished for all I've done."

Marinette pulled Chat into a hug.

"Chat, you are worth a thousand times more than any trouble you cause. You are not the only reason for the misery of others and it would be vain of you to think you were," she told him sternly, "And, if you worry for me, I do not suffer at all because of you other than when I see you blame yourself for so much."

Marinette could feel Chat's body shake with sobs against her own. His tears soaked through the sleeve of her dress. He was gasping and trying to breath deeply to steady himself.

Chat finally pulled away and Marinette would see the tears in his eyes. He seemed to be feeling a bit better and his breath was beginning to grow more even.

He attempted a halfhearted smile and had his mouth open to respond to her when there was a scream.

Marinette snapped around. Chloe was in the doorway and Alya was barreling down the hall faster than cannon fire. Chloe was apparently the source of the sound as her mouth was agape and her eyes were fixed on Chat's black mask. She slowly raised her hand to point directly at him before releasing another unearthly wail.

Chat gripped Marinette's hand and she turned to him. As he pulled her to the door, she saw his other hand reach up to touch the mask as if he were checking to see if it was still there.

He did not lead her down below the opera house as usual. They made their way to an area backstage among the set pieces and costumes. Chat seemed to be trying to lose a pursuer by the way he wove around obstacles and taking a swerving path much longer than necessary.

All his attempts seemed useless as they found a group of stagehands in their way. Chat quickly made to backtrack, but Marinette could now see that Alya had been leading the remainder of the opera employees through the mess. There were shouts and calls for Chat to be captured and for the mask to be taken off.

Marinette could sense his rising panic as he swivelled around to never leave his back to anyone for very long. He had an arm protectively in front of her and his hand gripped hers tightly, as though he would die before he released it.

Marinette recognized the feeling in his grasp that she had noted in his eye. The feeling was of pure possessive need. He needed her to the point where it would make him kill or die for her. Marinette realized that at times he had been so possessive over her that he had purposefully manipulated and hurt people for her.

Marinette grew increasingly frightened at the realization. The powers that he had were dangerous enough that she was afraid to know they had ever been used for her. She began glancing around at the crowd of people as Chat tried to ward them off. She felt as if there might be no escape for either of them.

The crowd seemed driven by Chloe and led by Alya. Marinette knew Alya meant no harm, but Chloe was driving fear and hatred into the minds of anyone who would listen.

"He killed his own mother!" Chloe cried, "He blackmails every one of us! He destroys anything he touches!"

The crowd seemed to surge forward at her words and Chat released Marinette's arm to fling both of his hands out defensively. He held up his hands with his arms stretched toward the two sets of attackers. His eyes narrowed and the sight of him was incredibly menacing as he glared at the people around him.

The crowd paused at his movement, but Chloe fought to get them to continue their advance. She pushed her way to the front now and seemed intent on taking Chat down herself.

Marinette could see Chat's hand start pulsing with a dark sort of energy as Chloe approached. No thought had time to pass through her head before she found herself again looking into the nearly glowing green eyes.

There was silence.

Marinette could see Chat's eyes widen in horror as he reached for her. She could feel nothing at first, but she soon realized what had happened.

She had intercepted his destructive power, but his hand had made contact with her shoulder. She could feel an intense pain spreading through her flesh. It burned and ate at her skin. Her thoughts filled with pure agony.

She slid to the floor in Chat's arms.

He was saying something. What was he saying?

She tried to focus on his words.

"Sorry. Sorry. Sorry."

Marinette could not bear to hear him like that. She could hear his voice trembling and his body shook. She reached up and stroked his face. Her mouth was dry and her head hurt, but she focussed through the pain.

"Adrien," She pled. She needed him to listen. She needed him to understand.

She gently lifted the mask off of his face and he made no move to stop her. He had tears spilling down his cheeks and they fell onto her dress. She wiped a few away with her thumbs. She looked into his eyes and studies his damaged face.

"I do not blame you for anything," she managed, "I love you more than anything, even the opera."

Adrien choked out a small laugh at her words. He held one of her hands against his cheek and rubbed it with his thumb.

"Marinette," He said. It was the first time she had ever heard him say her name and he had choked on it. His voice held such passionate affection. He had only whispered it, but the meaning of that one utterance was more immense than any song that could be performed. No music could compete with the raw feeling behind that moment.

Adrien placed his hands under Marinette's chin and pulled her head up toward his. He slowly closed the gap between them and their lips met. Marinette could taste tears and she couldn't tell whose they were.

Adrien loved her as well. She knew it now. He was not just infatuated with her or impressed by her. He loved her as deeply as she loved him.

Slowly, the pain subsided in her shoulder. Her mind started clearing and she let out a sigh.

Her eyes snapped opened.

She knew what this all meant.

They separated and Marinette watched in horror as the black of the flesh on Adrien's face grew rapidly. It soon covered his entire face and he lowered his head so she didn't have to see.

His hair slowly blackened and the darkness spread downward as well. He let out a strangled gasp as the decay spread down his neck and to his chest. He audibly gasped at the pain and his hands clutched at his head. His screams of pain were stifled as the destructive magic ate away at his ears, mouth, and throat. Marinette felt a sharp pain, similar to having a knife slowly driven through the ribcage, as she watched. She lost all ability to move and she could hardly think. Her soul was being violently torn to shreds and she could feel every stroke of the attacker. The pain was physically and emotionally crippling.

By the time she had gathered her strength, Adrien had already lost his hearing and his voice.

She hugged him tightly and the voice she had used to create something so full of life, inspired by the one now dying, let out a sound of anguish and agony that none could have mistaken for anything else. She screamed and sobbed into his shoulder as she could feel him slowly slipping from her grasp. There was nothing anyone could do to stop it and many who would not have if they had the power.

There was one girl who would have given her life to save this criminal, but he had given his to save hers.

 **Authors note:**

 **This is the final chapter. However, I may be willing to write an epilogue if I get a review asking for one. So, if you want a bit more, just write me a review and say so. I have no problem writing an epilogue if anyone at all seems like they would enjoy it. Hope you enjoyed the story.**

 **Thanks.**

 **~Fin~**


	49. Epilogue

**Authors Note: Hey, I just want to say thanks to the people who asked for the epilogue and to everyone who continued reading this very long story. I appreciate all of you.**

Marinette took a deep breath to steady her nerves before she took the candelabra from the table.

She swung the wardrobe forward and looked at the old, wooden door. She stepped forward and placed her hand against the cold surface.

She tried the knob and found it unlocked. The door opened silently and she peered into the darkness.

She tentatively stepped through the doorway and the light from the candles lit up the corridor. It was the first time she had ever seen it in the light.

She walked along, carefully taking note of anything that could be a trap. She dodged a few tripwires and trapdoors that had unknown contraptions hidden behind them. The smell brought back many memories of being led through the dark. It smelled of old wood and there was a breeze of fresh air coming from ahead. Marinette followed that until she found herself in the cavern with the lake.

She made her way to the small boat and examined it. It was painted black and was well made. She wondered if her Chat had made it himself.

She tentatively stepped into the boat. She could not see the light across the water she had seen before, but the place it had been was engraved into her mind.

She slowly paddled the boat out onto the water and towards where the light had been. As she approached the shore, she could see a large house. It was extraordinary in its grandeur for being where it was. She could see several levels and the roof nearly touched the cavern ceiling.

Marinette docked the boat near the bottom of the front staircase. She placed her hand on the banister that curved up to the door of the house. She was enchanted by the entirety of the situation.

She stepped up to the front door and tried it. She found it unlocked as well and realized that he had probably not had to worry about visitors much. She pushed lightly and found that this door gave more resistance. It was made of much heavier wood and was larger than the one leading out of her room.

Upon entering, Marinette found herself in a large entryway with a grand staircase leading up to the next level of the house.

Marinette made her way around the first floor, glancing into several rooms.

She found a room she could tell had been used frequently. At one end there was an enormous, intricate pipe organ. Around the room were several other instruments, including a piano and a violin. Each had a layer of dust that had gathered after that night. Marinette walked to the piano and brushed her fingers over the keys.

She could almost hear him playing it. She could just make out his voice in the dark and see him smile with the music.

She wiped the tears from her eyes and continued looking around.

She found a library and a lounge on that level along with a kitchen. She had so many questions she would have asked him.

She made her way up the grand staircase to the next level. The first room she entered was a library. The walls were lined with shelves that reached up the the ceiling and each was packed full of novels. She walked around and recognized many of the titles. She also noticed that there were some in other languages. She was really curious about how many things he could do that she didn't know about, but she knew she would never know now.

The next room was a bedroom.

She could instantly tell it was his personal room. It was slightly less organized than the rest of the house, but in a manner that seemed to make sense. There were pages of sheet music littered across a desk and on the nightstand. The bed was smaller than an average one, and had some similarities to a coffin. This puzzled Marinette, but she felt it somehow suited him for his character.

Marinette came across a certain page that caught her eye.

The title of the song was: Princess of Music.

Marinette studied the paper. It was a simple tune, but it meant more to her than any other piece. The piece was meant to be sung and the words were familiar to her. She read them, but could not bring herself to even hum the tune. If she had tried, the sound would have caught in her throat and she would have begun to sob.

She carefully placed the paper where she had found it. She was here to find out what Chat protected, and this was not it. She would know.

She cast one last glance around the room and something caught her eye.

There was a vase with a single, red rose in it. The rose had not yet even begun to wilt.

Puzzled, Marinette walked over to it. There was a ribbon tied around it and she remembered her own vase that had once nearly overflowed with similar roses. The thought brought a smile to her face.

She noticed a corner of paper poking out from under the vase. She lifted it and found a letter.

It was addressed to her.

 _Dear Angel,_

 _If you are reading this, then I have failed. I am either dead, or have been arrested. This is probably seen as a good thing by many, unfortunately as that may be. I am glad you have made it safely to my home. I hope you like it. There was once a time I dreamed of sharing it with you as a real home, but since you are reading this, that will never happen._

 _I dearly hope I managed to tell you before my demise, but in the event that I did not, I will relate it to you now._

 _I have loved you since before I loved myself. I never thought I could love myself until the day I realized you might love me as well. You have saved my life in more ways than you will ever know and I am grateful to you for that._

 _Now, to the business at hand. I am sure you would like to disengage the traps I have placed for the protection of this house. That will be easily accomplished if you simply follow the stairs to the next level. You will find a large wheel that has a rope around the axle. If it is turned three times counter clockwise, the traps will be disarmed._

 _I also assume that you did not come down here simply for that. I imagine you came in search of whatever I must have been protecting, as it was clearly not myself. You may rightly think I may have been worried that upon discovery, my house would be ransacked and destroyed by those reckless policemen, but that would not be worth all the trouble if it were not for one room in particular._

 _On the top level of my house, you will find a simple door at the end of a hall. The key for the door is inside my copy of Ovid's Metamorphoses in the library. It is on the second shelf down nearest the back wall._

 _Please, as a favor to me, do not read the rest of this letter until you are in the room. If you do not wish to search for it, you may leave and never glance back or even think about my existence again._

 _All my love,_

 _Adrien Agreste_

When Marinette read this, she immediately set out to find the room. She decided to put off disarming the traps until her own curiosity was satisfied. She easily found the book he had written of and carefully tapped the key from the pages. The keys was made of a heavy metal that felt cold in Marinette's palm.

She hurried up the stairs and down a dark hallway until she came to the door. It was a plain, ordinary door that was entirely unremarkable. Marinette fit the key into the lock and turned it.

When the door swung open, Marinette let out a sharp gasp.

At the opposite end of the room, was a life-sized oil painting of the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Her blonde hair was styled in a plain braid that hung over her shoulder. She had brilliant, green eyes and a soft smile. Marinette could see Adrien in her features and the thought made her smile sadly.

She opened the letter once more and read on.

 _If you are reading this, you are either a terrible friend, or you are in the room. You will have undoubtedly noticed the painting of my mother. She was so beautiful and kind, just like you. I would greatly regret anything bad happening to that painting, but it is not the only reason I protected this room specifically._

 _When facing the portrait, if you turn right, you will see a desk. In the top drawer you may find several things that are particularly precious to me. There is also a small, black, velvet box. I wish for you to have the contents. I had very much hoped to give it to you myself at some point, but that clearly did not happen._

 _Please, take the painting up after you release the traps. Keep it safe._

Marinette studied the portrait for a bit longer before walking over to the desk he had specified.

She slid the top drawer open and peered inside.

She found a journal that was nearly empty. She flipped through the pages. Each one related a story about things that had happened in the opera house. They all seemed to center around herself. She felt a bit guilty for reading it, so she placed it back in the drawer.

She found the small box he had written of.

It was lighter than she had expected. There was another letter addressed to her under the box.

 _Dear Marinette,_

 _I wish I was there with you. I wish I could comfort you and tell you it is all going to be fine. I wish I could see you smile and hear you sing. Oh, how I wish I could hear you sing. If you are reading this, I am dead. I am sorry._

 _The contents of the box once belonged to my mother, but I have long dreamed of presenting it to you. I had dreamed that I could find a way to have a normal life with you someday. You well know now that I love you and I hope that you are reading this because you love me in return._

 _After you take care of the painting and receive this, I insist you live your life to the fullest. I hope you fall in love again and I hope you are loved in return. I hope you enjoy life and have the best of stories to tell when we meet on the other side, whatever that may be._

 _I love you,_

 _Adrien Agreste_

Marinette opened the small box.

There, on a small, velvet cushion in the box, was a ring. The ring was black, with a lime green paw print made of small, perfectly set jewels.

Marinette began to sob. She could feel tears run down her cheeks and splash on her dress and the letters she was holding. She slumped to the ground and wept.

 **-The Real End.**


End file.
